Something Real
by Astarii Amaranth
Summary: [COMPLETE] Trunks and Pan are now engaged...but that's only the beginning. Confusion and sadness, chaos and madness are the name of the game, and let us all hope they get through it alive and together. (TP RomanceComedyDrama - Sequel to A Change of Heart)
1. Introduction

Welcome to A Wedding of Chaotic Proportions! The sequel to A Change of Heart, my most popular story on fanfiction.net. **I strongly recommend you read A Change of Heart first**, as later on there will be some big references and plots to tie in with the previous story. Here's the introduction, so dive right in!

"You look awful, what's up?" Gohan flipped a pancake on the griddle while he watched Pan stumble into a kitchen chair. Pan groaned in reply. "Want a pancake?" He asked. With a hand to her forehead she nodded.

"So what's wrong?" He questioned again a few minutes later, pouring orange juice in a glass.

"I didn't sleep at all last night." She confessed, and he gave her a listening ear. "I was up all night, just staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything." She sighed and took a long drink of juice.

"Everything?" He questioned, trying to get more information out of her. He slid some pancakes onto a plate and spread butter over them, then passed the plate to Pan.

"You know, _everything_. Like, who's going to be my maid of honor? Do you know how hard it is to choose between Bura and Marron? It will hurt one if I choose the other. Then, I have to have one do my bridal shower, and it will hurt one again if I choose the other." She poured syrup onto her food. "Do you truly understand what I'm going through?" She half-pleaded. "Then, there's the tux's. I'm completely lost there. Flowers, which church, where do have the reception, what car to drive us, the honeymoon—"

"I thought Trunks was in charge of the honeymoon." Gohan interrupted.

"Yeah…right." She seemed to get a glazed look, then the fire leapt back in her eyes. "Bridesmaid's dresses, flower girl, ring boy, food, cake, decorations, caterer, veil, dress, shoes, makeup, hair," And this she continued in a fast, frustrated, hopeless manner, the overall tone being overly-stressed.

"Dad," She said, looking at him. "When did a wedding become such a huge hassle?"


	2. An Argument

Well, here's the first chapter! It's a bit deep and serious for a first one, but I couldn't have prevented it, this chapter told itself to me entirely. I promise things will lighten up! But there also will be some deep things in some upcoming chapters, you've been warned. Sorry for the wait and the short introduction for this story, but this chappy is fairly long, so hopefully it will hold you till the next one. :) I hope you like it, and please review!

"So, I've decided some things." Pan said, sifting through the invitation cards, sitting across from Trunks at her kitchen table. He was sifting through a box of cards himself. She cocked a brow.

"I'm listening." He said with a smile.

"It's a hard choice to make, between Marron and Bura, but I've got to make it. I've decided to make Bura my maid of honor, and in compensation, I'm going to have Marron do my bridal shower. Sound good?"

"Sounds good." He grinned. "So who's this?" He questioned, holding up a card.

"Don't ask me." She answered with a shrug. "You should know by now neither of us know half of these people." She sighed. "But they're important people to our parents, and so we will have to act like we hear their names daily." He nodded and put it back in the stack.

"So," She said hesitantly. "how's the honeymoon plans coming along?" She prodded innocently.

"Just fine." He grinned. "And that's all you'll know for now." She made a pouting noise. "I'll tell you enough time beforehand."

"I know, but I'm dying to know where." She bounced in her seat impatiently. "Will I like it?" She questioned, but he only smiled an 'I'm-not-telling' smile. "Ok, fine!" She said, going through the invitations in silence. A few minutes later Trunks burst into laughter, and she looked up with an irritated, cocked brow. "What?"

"You're dying to know." She tossed her head to the side with one of those looks and rolled her eyes. "Yes, you are; I can tell."

"I'm just curious so I can know what to buy to take with me, that's all." He smirked and shook his head.

"It's killing you." He pointed out, and she put the lid on the box and got up. "Admit it!" He said playfully, getting up himself. "C'mon, Pan." He said, folding his arms, sending a playful smirk her way.

She turned her nose up at him and poked her head in the fridge, attempting to look occupied with other things. He lifted his wrist and looked at his watch, the same one that got scratched up in the accident the previous summer. Now, in early February, he had yet to get a new one. The clasp had also become broken since then, and it dangled funnily most of the time.

"I gotta' run." He said, grabbing his coat off the back of the chair and slinging it on over a navy sweater. She emerged from the fridge, the acting over, and a disappointed expression crossed her face.

"Really? Right now?" She asked. "You just got here a little bit ago." He grinned and pecked her on the cheek.

"That 'little bit ago' was an hour and forty-five minutes ago." He joked, stepping into the entryway. "I'm coming back for dinner, I promise." She grabbed his waist and gave him a quick kiss before he left through the door.

She walked to the kitchen window and watched him get into his car and drive off, then looked around herself. No one else was home, and the house was in need of a clean, so she decided tidying up a bit wouldn't hurt. Turning on the stereo in the living room she began picking up as a mellow, afternoon radio tune played.

Two hours later, the living room, dining room, and kitchen spotless, she sat down with a bottle of soda. The front door opened and she could hear car keys jingle.

"Pan?" Her mother's voice called out. "Pan, are you home?" She stepped into the kitchen and sat her purse down. "Hey there." She gave Pan a smile, then looked around. "Thing's look nice around here." She pointed out. "Did you clean?" Pan nodded while taking a sip of Pepsi.

"Aww, thanks sweetie." She flashed a Son smile, something that had rubbed off on her through the years of living with Gohan. "I've got some groceries, wanna help?"

"Sure." Pan put her soda back in the fridge and followed her mom out to the car. Her mother popped the trunk, and several blue plastic bags rippled noisily in the wind.

"It's freezing out here!" Pan hugged herself and clattered her teeth on purpose. "Is this it?" She questioned, grabbing most of the bags. "Anything up front?" Videl shook her head and closed the trunk, slipping her keys in her camel-coat pocket.

"So how did it go with Trunks?" She asked, closing the door behind them and following her daughter into the kitchen. She sat the bags down on the table chairs and raised a brow.

"Ok." Pan said pleasantly, dropping her load on the counter and emptying them into cupboards. "He still won't tell me where we're going on our honeymoon." She added poutingly.

"Oh, Pan, why do you hate surprises so?" She smiled. "I would have liked to have had a honeymoon period. And you can trust Trunks; he won't take you camping or something like that." Pan threw her mother a face. "…that is…" She continued. "unless you'd like to go camping."

"Oh, no." Pan said, sitting down. "It's just—"

"Another thing to fret about?" Videl smiled knowingly and sat down next to her daughter, wrapping an arm comfortingly around her shoulders. "Panny, Panny." She said, and Pan leant her head on her mother's familiar shoulder. "Don't worry, everything will be just fine."

"I hope so, mom." She said desperately. "I want everything to be…you know…I just want it to be nice, and pleasant, and I don't want something to get messed up. I don't even have a wedding dress yet!" She sobbed tearlessly.

"Pan," Videl took her daughter's hands in hers, looking her straight and deliberately in the eyes. These eyes, her mother's eyes, were so diverse and yet always the same. They held comfort, concern, love, understanding, and so much more. Pan could never look away from those eyes, not that she usually wanted to.

"It will be all right. What can possibly go so wrong that you'd want to waste time and tears on them? Seriously." She smirked. "The limo's late, you wait. The wedding can't go on without you. The cake isn't exactly what you wanted, don't fret; it's still gorgeous. Your bridesmaid's dresses don't look like they did in the magazines. They're still pretty, and no one can tell. Besides," She winked. "You aren't the one wearing them." They exchanged grins.

"Honey," She took Pan in her arms. "Don't worry, it will all smooth over. You're just nervous. It's natural to be." She sighed. "I remember planning mine, and it wasn't the biggest affair either. We didn't even have a honeymoon! Or bridesmaid's! Or limo's!" She leant her chin on her daughter's head. "Panny, don't waste your time worrying, just prevent what you can, plan what you need to. You've got Chi-Chi, Bulma, Me, and even Eighteen working on this!" She laughed and released her daughter. "We'll make sure it runs smooth, ok? Just enjoy your day. Promise?"

Pan smiled and nodded. "I promise."

"Hello there, Trunks." Videl greeted cheerfully, opening the door wide. "Dinner's almost ready." She looked around and bit her lip. "Pan's taking a shower, but Gohan's watching TV in the living room."

"Thanks." He gave a little nod and walked into the living room, hands in his pockets. "What's up?" He asked, plopping down on the couch next to Gohan.

"Hey, son." He grinned from ear to ear, and Trunks gave a chuckling smile back. "It's a shame baseball's gone downhill." He clicked the TV off with a remote. "It used to be great, back when Yamcha was at his height." He gave a sly smile. "But he's gotten more into celebrity status versus sports star now, hasn't he?" Trunks shrugged.

"Yeah, it would seem so."

"Seem so?" Both men turned to the hall where Pan stood with a blue terry cloth robe on, and a towel wrapped around her thick hair. Her feet were shod in blue slippers with a star and moon design on them that matched the design on the left lapel of her robe.

"And why are you so nosy all of the sudden?" Trunks teased. Gohan smiled at the situation. Trunks and Pan really were meant for each other, and every day they were that much more the married couple that was to come. Trunks had nearly taken over Gohan's job of teasing her like that, but although it was reminiscently sad, it wasn't sad in the way that Gohan would want to prevent it.

They were a team now, the two of them, and Gohan couldn't deny it.

"And put some clothes on, missy." He teased again, folding his arms and giving her furrowed brows. "Do you think I want my wife-to-be walking around nude all the time?"

"No, you'll want that _after_ we're married." She said with a teasing wink and a barely there smile that put glitter in her eyes. Gohan coughed and Trunks hid a sly smirk with a little blush. "Sorry, daddy." She apologized.

Gohan held up a hand of forgiveness and understanding.

"Well, I suppose I should make myself a little less _nude_, then." She said, trotting up the stairs. Trunks watched her go up, and Gohan chuckled. Trunks cleared his throat and looked at his father in law.

"Don't worry about it." Gohan grinned. "It's…well, I mean…there's…I understand." He gave the same warm smile that had always made Trunks feel safe and at ease around him. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about." He chuckled, then got serious. "Although…" Trunks swallowed and looked into his unblinking eyes. "Trunks, I don't want to ever find a tiger-striped nightgown lying around."

Trunks didn't move. He didn't flinch, blink, or even breathe. He looked at him, and couldn't recall whether he nodded or not.

Then, a funny thing happened. Gohan laughed. The chuckle that grew into a full hearted Son laugh made Trunks jump a good inch or so off the couch, and Gohan rubbed tears from his eyes.

"I got you pretty good. Boy, I wish you could have seen yourself. Hehe." He grinned from ear to ear. "I honestly don't care what she wears…you know, for, uh, stuff…" He bit his lip, then changed the subject. "But I got you pretty good. You jumped a foot, Trunks!" His glasses drooped on his nose, and he pushed them back with a finger.

Trunks found himself chuckling nervously, then he leaned back with a sigh.

"I totally thought you were serious, Gohan." Gohan grinned, then looked at Trunks with a corner of his lip up appraisingly.

"Do you really want her to wear tiger stripes?" He asked, totally honest. Trunks shook his head, shot back into scared rabbit mode. "Oh, ok." Gohan smiled again. "I mean, if, you know…"

"Say no more." Trunks smiled and they let the subject drop at that.

"Now what might you two boys be discussing?" Videl stood in the doorway, a curious expression on her face. She looked at Gohan, awaiting the answer from him.

"And why are you so nosy all of the sudden?" He asked teasingly, copying Trunks' technique. He got a frown followed by hands on hips and a cocked brow.

"Dinner's ready." She said flatly, and Gohan smiled nervously. "Pan will be down in a minute, but I don't want things to get cold waiting for her." She added, smiling at Trunks. "C'mon, Gohan." She returned to a flat manner as her eyes fell on her husband.

"How come it didn't work for me, huh?" He whispered to Trunks as they made their way to the dining room.

"What?" Videl snapped.

"Nothing! Nothing at all, honey." Videl tossed her low ponytail over one shoulder with a 'hmph!'. "I suppose that didn't put her in the best of moods." He whispered again.

"What was that?" She asked sharply from the next room as they began to sit down. Trunks shook his head and scooted his seat in.

"I was just telling Trunks how I was so excited about eating some of your food!" He called, and Trunks could imagine oh so vividly Videl shaking her head in the kitchen while she picked up a dish or two.

She appeared with a good-natured expression on her face though, and sat a bowl of chicken and cream sauce on the table along with a plate of rice.

"Dig right in, Trunks." She said, handing him a plate and then Gohan. She grinned. "You're family now. Well, you always have been, but you know." He returned a smile. "Pan, are you coming?"

"Yes, mom!" Came a voice from upstairs. It seemed as if she was muffling the response with a pillow, but more likely she probably had something in her mouth like a hairpin or something or another.

Footsteps soon thudded down the stairs, and Pan appeared in the dining room with two bobby pins in her mouth, her hands knotting her wet hair in a sloppy bun. Her clothes had little wet patches on them from water uncaught by the towel, and she wiped a bead of H2O off her cheek with the back of her hand.

"Chicken and cream sauce! Awesome, mom!" She sat down across from Trunks and scooted her chair in eagerly, acting surely like a little kid, like the Pan Trunks had comforted during the storm. The reminiscent memory of that afternoon slipped through Trunks' mind as he watched her dive into the food, and he felt foolish; she probably didn't even remember.

He did. Very vividly.

"So, Trunks, how have you been?" Videl inquired. "We haven't seen you much lately since you've been trying to catch Capsule Corps. up. You're almost done?"

"Um, yeah. We've just got to finish up some research. Hopefully things will be back to normal next week or so. I'll be glad when that happens, I might as well just sleep at Capsule Corps." He laughed.

"He did the other night." Pan said with a mouthful. "The next morning he had the worst crick in his neck, and he was just about limping all day!" She grinned. "Next time send out for a sleeping bag, ok?"

"So how's your family doing?" Gohan asked, looking at Trunks through his scholarly glasses. "They're doing good, I hope?"

"Yeah, they're fine. My dad's been wonderful on letting me know just because I'm getting married, it doesn't mean I can slack on training." He smiled, more to himself. "Bura's dancing around and singing half the day away, talking to Donny the other half, and my mom's getting excited about some medical research she's doing."

"She and Donny are really getting married?" Videl queried.

"With the ring she has, I'm pretty sure. She flaunts it to the household robots!" He smiled. Bura's ring _was _huge. Donny, male model that he was, made sure of that. It was intricately fancy to boot. Pan hadn't wanted something like that, she just wanted a simple one, and Trunks had gotten it, with just one diamond in the center. Although the thick platinum band and 4-carat stone made it definitely higher in price, and had let him know he had gotten her the best. He had planned something different, but she, timidly, told him that any bigger a stone would be a bit too big, and would probably keep her from doing everyday things. He had had trouble enough getting her to wear a 4-carat.

"But I think they're going to wait a bit, although with her acting the way she has been, I don't see how that can go on. I think they'll end up married this winter or so." He continued, on the topic of his sister. Videl nodded with a friendly expression on her face.

A little while later they were enjoying dessert, vanilla ice-cream with fresh strawberries.

"So how did the invitations go?" Videl raised a brow while she dug her spoon into the white mound.

"Ok." Pan answered for them both. "I never realized there were so many people coming."

"Well, there are a lot of people you can't ignore. Your grandpa and your father know a lot of people—saved a lot of people—and I'm sure they'd like to join in the celebration. The ox king knows some people, Bulma knows a lot, and then my—"

"I didn't think it was _their_ wedding." Pan muttered, staring down at her melting ice-cream and slippery strawberries.

"Pan—"

"It seems Trunks and I don't even know _half_ the guest list, let alone care about them coming." She continued, still looking down. Her mother raised a brow, and Gohan swallowed, feeling the tension.

"Who do you want then? Would you insist on being rude to people who hold you and your family in such high respect?" Pan stood up, slapping her napkin on the table, locking eyes with her mother.

"I don't know who I want!" She exclaimed. No one breathed. "I just know I don't—"

"These people, Pan, would feel honored to know you would invite them to celebrate with you." Videl, words cool as ice, chastisement sharp as a knife, looked at her daughter under an elegantly arched brow.

"Is this my wedding or a cotillion!?" Videl, her sharp reproachful brow replaced by an expression of astonishment, looked at her daughter. Pan bit her lower lip, stifling violent tears. She scooted her chair back and left the room at a dash.

Videl leaned back in her chair and furrowed her brows, casting her eyes downward in an expression of the deepest contemplation and letting out a dejected sigh. Gohan took off his glasses and leaned forehead on his hand, elbow on the table. He rubbed at his forehead thoughtfully, and caught Trunks' eyes.

He gave an approving nod, and Trunks left the room, following Pan's path. He found her on the deck, hugging herself stiffly against the cold or against her body-racking sobs, he could not tell which. Tears splashed down her cheeks, and her face held a proud expression that also held remorse.

Either she was too caught up to hear him fall behind her, or she didn't care to let him know she had. Whichever was the case, she leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

He buried his face into the curve of her shoulder, and he could feel her shiver with the cold. Her hair was still wet, thanks to its thickness, and it hit against his own fair hair like ice touching his scalp.

He turned her around to face him, and he grasped her cheeks with his hands, looking at her with understanding. Her lips began to quiver, and her face contorted and she sobbed. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms tight around her squeezing her protectively.

"Pan, it's all right." He whispered soothingly. "It's ok." He whispered, close to her ear, quiet as a breath, warm as a sigh. Her hands became fists at his chest, and she bit her lip determinedly.

"Trunks, I just—" Her words trembled, and his heart ached for her. The argument, however trivial and unimportant the subject had been, had been an argument, and it was something she felt was important. Of course she thought it was important, she never argued with her mother, and wasn't the type to mutter and complain.

"It's our day," She began, her voice evening. "and I just want it to be special." She looked up at him. "I'm sorry I argued. I'm sorry I got all upset in front of you. It was, I just…it came out that way. I wish I hadn't been like that; it wasn't important enough." He smoothed her hair, drawing her closer.

"I know, I know." He said, still smoothing her hair, comforting her like a scared child. But it was deeper than that; he knew it. He knew, that however simple this touch, it held the most deep, caring love he had for her. The love that would make him protect her with his life, fight for her until death could stop him—he would never stop fighting for less than death!

Her sobs lessening, her tears drying, he held her still, rocking just barely, side to side, stroking her hair, kissing her gently where he could.

Gohan stood upstairs, looking out the window, at his daughter and Tru—his son. He saw the gentle back and forth rhythm with which he rocked her, stroking her hair like he had done so many times himself to comfort her. Videl was doing the dishes downstairs, knowing she wasn't the one her daughter wanted comfort from this time. Knowing that rarely would her daughter ever come to her again for comfort. Not because of their argument, no, that would smooth over quite soon, but she had a greater comforter now, one that cared for her almost as much as she did, if not as much.

With a deep sigh Gohan sat down, adjusted his glasses, and pulled open a book, wondering when this melancholy feeling of losing his daughter would fade.


	3. I Want A Wedding

I know, it's been a while! Well, towards the beginning of May I got on a plane for Ireland and spent most of May there, and England and Scotland. Then, got on a plane back to the good 'ole US of A, then got on another one for Utah, where I spent a week and a half, then drove to Colorado for a week, then back to Utah for several days, then finally back to Virginia where my lovely, comfortable, PERFECT home is. That was the main reason for the delay of this chapter, but, um, I admit to some complications once I got home towards the end of June. First was a bit of writer's block, and then my pickiness after that. I'm VERY picky about this story, seeing as it's the sequel to my favorite story here on FF.net. So, yes, worked through the ending of this chapter for a while just being in-between writer's block and pickiness. My apologies, to be sure. Plus I'm busy on a project. I'm about to open, or, working on opening a big website. Astarii.net. Finally a nice site for Moi! lol. The only reason I mention this is because all my stories are going to be hosted in one of its subdomains. (I think stories.astarii.net maybe) Anywho, so that's the scoop on that, and why this chappy has taken so long. Funny stuff to come, I promise, because nothing has been funny really yet. Well, I'll shut up. Toodle-doo!

"Ahhh!" Pan scurried into her house, slamming the door behind her with a distinct thud. Looking like a scared rabbit, she leant against the door and breathed deeply.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Videl sped into the foyer and Gohan's footsteps could be heard coming from his study.

"I—I—I—"

"What is it?" Gohan appeared, his face drawn in worry. Like clockwork, a series of blinding flashes began outside the window. All three dashed to it, glancing out into the morning, to see a mob of photographers and reporters outside.

Just like in the news, people wrote on mini notepads, people stood in front of camera's, microphone in hand, speaking about what was to their backs, and photographers took countless photos, their flashes going off constantly like a light never turned off.

The three Sons' looked at each other, needing to blink, but too stunned to do so.

"Look!" A newspaper slapped down on Trunks Brief's desk. Bulma stood before him, arms crossed, one brow raised disapprovingly. "Now they've attacked them—not like I ever thought they'd be able to escape the press…" The rest droned out while Trunks lifted the paper and scanned the front page.

A big picture of Gohan, Videl, and Pan peering out a window in shock was there with big bold letters that read, 'Brief's Mysterious Fiancée Finally Revealed!'.

Following that was a lengthy article about the family, the father's occupation, the family's relation to the Brief's, and everything about Pan they could dig up. They even had interviews of some people, Trunks realized with disgust.

His eyebrows raised in disbelief at one. It read, 

__

"I remember several months back, they came into the store and purchased, well, some 'clothing articles'. He was a good young boy, but seemed a bit persistent at the purchase, while she was very much not too delighted with it all." It was signed Melba Nurose, clerk, Lace's and Bow's Lingerie and Negligée's. 

Trunks leaned forward in his hand. They had only bought a couple of bras!

"No one ever told me about those purchases." Bulma pointed out, looking at him funny. He caught her gaze and shook his head.

"I bought her some bras, to be honest." He said. "When I took her to get her hair and stuff done, they said she needed something else than what she had." She nodded, the funny look gone.

"Read on." She prompted, waving at the paper. She took a seat on the couch and pushed a button for Claire. The secretary entered and Bulma sent her away for something while Trunks scanned the remaining articles.

__

"Oh, several months ago he made and appointment for her. Lovely girl, really, but not very aware of her natural beauty. Quite a shame. Anyway, she had her hair done, makeup, all of the like, and they seemed very much in love. Handsome, he is. He spared no cost for her! There isn't anything else I can really tell you, though. She is a lovely girl, and I wish her the best with her life!" This interview was signed by Ms. Satina of Satina Spa. He turned to the next one as Claire handed his mother some hot chocolate in a mug.

This next one had a photo, and, Trunks realized with distaste, it was of Selena Encochito, the waitress from Tin'aco that he had taken out a couple times. She seemed a bit distressed in the pictures, shoving her way through the press, her face showing both annoyance and a scared animal expression, like a deer caught in headlights. He kept his eyes scrolling, now reading the article.

__

"Miss Selena Encochito, waitress at Tin'aco—a Latino-style bar in downtown—had a few dates with Trunks Brief's, President of Capsule Corporations, but wasn't prone to say much. She did say, however, that he was all the teen heartthrob magazine's made him out to be, and she didn't have anything bad to say about him at all. Their few dates, she said, were pleasant and he was great company. She also said that she had met the elusive Miss Son several times, and she didn't hold her praise for her either. Her closing statement was:

'I'm afraid you won't get the hidden scandal that you want from me. There's nothing there that would put him on the news any more than he already is. They're great, and I wish them both the best of luck!'

Trunks sat the paper down and looked at his mother, whom, he realized had been looking at him all along.

"She could have made something up and gotten a bundle for it. No one would believe your side of the story if she would have—any fool would know that." He nodded, poking a button on the intercom.

"Claire, get me 2—3 dozen roses and have them delivered to Miss Selena Encochito. Um, the card should read, Thank you—I really…wait, uh, just have it say thank you, and have it signed with my first name. That's all." He poked the button again and Bulma nodded approvingly. His intercom buzzed, and he poked it while opening the paper to the comic section, propping his legs on his desk.

"Yes?" He questioned, not paying much attention to anything except for Garfield.

"You're sister's on the phone, Mr. Brief's." She said simply, and he could hear the phones of his secondary secretaries ringing in the background. "Should I connect her, sir?" She questioned.

"Yeah, go ahead. Thanks, Claire." There was a quick buzz, followed by Bura Brief's voice.

"Trunks?" She questioned.

"I'm here."

"Good. Are you busy?" She asked, and he sat down his paper, knowing he wouldn't be able to enjoy the funnies with his sister yapping on the phone.

"Yes," He lied, and Bulma shook her head, getting up and making herself some more hot chocolate.

"Too bad, you need to do something." He groaned. "Shut up and listen!" She continued. "The Sons' are stuck in their house. Reporter's everywhere! They can't even get out! They called for help, so you've got to go over there and do something about it."

"Like what?" He asked, just trying to annoy her—he was already up and getting his coat on. He folded his arms and looked at the intercom box.

"I don't know! But you better hurry." Without a word he left, leaving his mother to end the conversation with Bura.

"I win!" Pan chanted, gathering up the Uno cards and shuffling them, getting ready for another game. "Sometimes you're just too easy, dad." She said with a teasing grin. "Can't I ever get some competition?" She continued with a wink. "Mom, come play!" She beckoned.

"Oh, no, I can't ever play that game." Her mother said from behind a magazine.

"Have you ever really tried?" She prodded, but her mother didn't answer. She looked at her father, eyebrow raised, asking him the question. He shook his head in silence.

"Does anyone want something to eat? Like munchies or something?" She asked, getting up, heading to the kitchen. Both parents shook their heads, voicing their answers, and she disappeared into the kitchen.

"We've been here since seven-thirty this morning." Gohan said, examining his watch. "I wonder when they'll ever lighten up."

"They won't." Videl reassured. "Not until their married—and then they'll stalk Trunks and Pan's house." She sat down her magazine, looking at her husband.

Meanwhile, Pan leaned into the fridge, scanning for something good to eat. They hadn't been out of the house all day, since about seven or so when she was going to go somewhere with Marron, and now it was three fifty-six.

She pulled out the carton of orange juice, and was grabbing a glass when she saw a limo pull up, no doubt bearing her Fiancé inside. She sat them both down at the kitchen table and watched out of the window.

"Mom, dad! Trunks is here!" She could hear her parents get up, and they both went to the foyer and peered out of the small vertical windows to the sides of the door, eagerly awaiting Trunks' actions.

The limo stopped and the reporters all turned to the car, getting their video camera's going. The door opened and Trunks appeared, casually strolling by them with practice. He had his bomber jacket on, along with sunglasses, and there was no mistaking who he was.

People video taped him, reporters bugged him with questions, and people shoved voice recorders near his face. They all seemed to halfway crush him and treat him like glass, and he made it to the front door without saying anything except polite "excuse me's". The door opened just a crack, and he slipped into the house sideways.

"Trunks!" Pan hopped out of the kitchen and jogged to him. "They've been here all day—we've been—"

"I know, I know." He interrupted, both grabbing each other in a hug. He nodded to Gohan and Videl with a cheery smile. "I'm so sorry about this—" He started, but Gohan cut him off with a shake of his head.

"There is nothing to be sorry about, Trunks." He said. "We all knew it was coming, anyway." He added cheerfully. "It was just a matter of time." Videl nodded her agreement.

"I guess I should go get rid of them." Trunks smiled, arm around Pan. "I'll be right back." He turned to leave, but Pan grabbed his arm.

"Hang on a second, I'm coming too." She brushed her hand through her dark locks, but Trunks shook his head. "What?" She questioned.

"They'll take all sorts of pictures of you and everything. You _are_ the elusive Pan, you know." He grinned mischievously.

"They're going to get pictures of me somehow, I might as well be able to pose for them." She pointed out with a convincing smile. "Please?" She added, prodding.

"Ok, ok." He said. "C'mon. But don't say anything, kay?" He grabbed her hand after she nodded and they both slipped out onto the front porch. People awaited in silence, save the video reporters, and everyone awaited his words.

"If you could please leave," He started. "I would appreciate it." His hand, now around her waist, gave her a little squeeze. "So if you could disperse before I have to call some people that would be great. Thanks." He gave a dashing smile, and pulled his cell phone out from his pocket. Reporters not wanting to be dispersed with force by police began scurrying away into cars and vans, some being rude enough to take a something from the yard like a flower—or, like one observer—the mailbox.

Pan laughed at a man stealing a mailbox, though Trunks didn't take it as lightly.

"C'mon." He said, grabbing her hand and pulling her in. "I'm so sorry about all this, Pan." He said, being sincere. She laughed it off, but he grasped her chin and made her look at him. "I really am. This isn't ever going to get easier, only harder. Eventually it'll irritate you as much as it does me."

"I know, but you can't marry the most eligible bachelor in the world without _some_ unpleasant things." She pointed out. "I'm starving, let's grab something to eat." She tugged him into the kitchen where she promptly found some things to fill her Saiyan stomach.

"Uno!" Bura exclaimed gleefully, casting a grin towards Marron. "Seriously, you should try to remember better." She added teasingly. Marron shook her head and drew her cards from the deck.

"Red four." Trunks slapped a card down and Pan searched through her hand for a few moments before placing her own card. Next was Donny, then Bura.

"Isn't anyone ready for a new game?" Goten questioned, scanning the faces of all the players. "I mean—"

"You don't have anything, do you?" Bura said blandly.

"Well…I…no. No, I don't." Bura laughed, and smiles spread on everyone's faces. "But, seriously, guys." He continued, slapping his hand down onto the living room carpet. "Aren't any of you sick of this game?" Pan smiled.

"Well, yeah, for the third week of playing it whenever we get together…" She grinned. "I guess I'm getting pretty sick of it."

"How about a movie, guys?" Bura asked, leaning her back against Donny's shoulder. "Seriously!" She prodded when no one made a move to do anything. "I'm so bored I could scream, and instead of sitting around let's go and do something!" Her rousing speech seemed to move everyone else, and Goten grabbed the phone to call the theaters.

"_Beach Babes II_," He began announcing from the kitchen. The girls glared at the guys before they could even start to say they were interested in that one. "_Revenge of the Cyborg's_," No one seemed too thrilled about that one. "_Twisted Fury_," Donny seemed interested, but Bura shot him a glare. "_Guns of Metal_," Trunks raised a brow curiously at this title. He chuckled with a cheesy line, 'what else would they be made of?', and Pan poked him in the side to shut him up. "_Blonde and Blonder_," Some of the girls got excited, but the guys gave them a 'puh-lease' look. "_Animal Attack_," All shot their brows up at that. "and _To Each His Own_."

All of them looked around at each other without a word.

"How about _To Each His Own_?" Marron suggested. "At least I've heard good things about that one. At least I've _heard_ of that one." Several people nodded, agreeing it was the best choice.

"Yeah, I've heard some good reviews about it." Bura agreed. Everyone seemed to nod, and so the decision was made. People began grabbing coats and purses, but Pan made an announcement.

"You know, guys, I think I'm gonna stay behind tonight." Bura looked at her and widened her eyes in disbelief. "Yeah, I'm gonna stay." Trunks grabbed her shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

"You sure?" He whispered in her ear, and she nodded. "Ok, I'll stay too." He said louder. This seemed to be too much for Bura who began pouting.

"Aw, c'mon guys! Please come?" She begged. "We don't want to leave two in our number behind." She pointed out, and Marron nodded in agreement, her coat now on as she stood supportively by Bura.

"You don't have to stay," Pan turned around and grabbed Trunks' hand. "I'll be just fine…I think I'm gonna have an early night tonight." He squeezed her hand.

"Yeah, I think I'll miss out on _To Each His Own_, guys." He told the group, and, beaten, they said their goodbye's and left. "Whew!" He lied down on the couch after they left, and Pan sat on the armrest. "I'm glad you coughed out on the movie; I didn't really want to go either." She chuckled.

"Yes you did." He looked at her curiously. "You've been saying you want to go for the last week—ever since it came out!" She added, falling backwards to lay onto his chest. He grinned.

"Ok, you got me. But I didn't want to see it without you." He wrapped his arms around her for emphasis, and she smiled along with another chuckle.

"Fair enough." She snuggled, getting more comfortable. "I want some hot chocolate." She said after a long moment of silence. "But I don't want to get up." She could feel his laughter—the rapid up-and-down of his chest—even though she couldn't hear it.

"I'll go make it then." He started to get up, but she pushed her weight down, stopping him. "What?"

"I don't want you to move either. I'm comfortable. Besides, if you move then I move anyway." She could feel another chuckle. "Maybe if I yell for my parents they'll come."

"And what? Make you hot chocolate?" This time she could hear him chuckle. "I think that's pretty rude of you, making your parents come and serve you hot chocolate just because you're too lazy to get up yourself." She rolled her eyes and got up reluctantly.

"Hey, after you make it let's go outside." It was more of a notification versus a question. He raised a brow at her.

"Why?"

"Because it's nice outside!"

"You mean it's cold outside! Look, I see what is definitely snow out there." He pointed out the sliding door. She put her hands on her hips and shot him a look. Almost a glare but not quite. "That's what heated houses are for, so that people like us could stay inside." He stuck his hands out, palms facing each other several inches apart. "Stay inside," He moved his hands to the right in a jumping motion. "stay warm." He nodded to her like he was explaining something scientific to someone who couldn't speak the same language.

On her part, a single brow lifted, and she looked at him with annoyance.

"I'll meet you outside." He said quickly before disappearing into the kitchen.

The steam from the cup that warmed Pan's fingers rose and also warmed Pan's face as she stared ahead thoughtfully, sitting on the deck steps, holding her cup close to her face. Trunks sat next to her in silence, quietly sipping his hot chocolate.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked quietly after he had finished, sitting the cup down next to him, leaning back on one hand and brushing her hair out of her face and onto her back with the other.

She smiled without looking at him, and for a moment it seemed as if she was lost in another thought.

"Us," She said simply. "and this wedding." Trunks smirked and nodded. Leaning back on both arms now he was looking at her, the faintest smile upon his face. "Oh, Trunks, will we ever get through it?" She sat irritably, setting her cup down and leaning against him, tucking her head under his chin.

He chuckled, and she could feel his chest shake under her back. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, turning around and slugging him in the chest.

"I'm serious!" He shook off his laughter and took a breath before smiling at her and nodding.

"I know, I know." She cocked a brow at him. "It's been getting to you—"

"That's an understatement—"

"But it really _will_ turn out all right. You'll have the biggest, prettiest wedding in the world." She sighed and shot him a pouting look. Sensing he had said something wrong, he winced a bit.

"I don't want the biggest, prettiest wedding in the world!" Knowing there was no other way to undo the damage he had just done, he threw in a cunning "pass the ball to her court".

"What kind of wedding do you want?" It was a question that would prove he cared, yet wouldn't send him floundering for the eternity's guessing. He waited in silence for her response.

"I want a wedding." She said simply. He rolled his eyes, yet made sure she didn't catch it. Really, girls could be so complicated about things sometimes. He gave her a look that beckoned her to continue. "I want," She continued. "a wedding." She finished simply. This time he sighed. "I want," She said louder this time, gaining confidence. "a wedding." She finished quietly. He sighed again.

"Pan, how can I help you if you don't tell me what you want?" He asked caringly, brushing the hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear like a little girl. She sighed and bit her lip, thinking.

"I don't want it to be an event…" She said this time. "I want it to be a wedding, not a huge event that loses its meaning." He had at least gotten _somewhere _this time. He nodded, understanding. "It's just that with the plans going on, it seems like things are getting out of hand. All these huge plans! Caterer's, decorator's, florist's, planner's, photographer's—we've got five different kinds of photographer's!" She exclaimed. "A formal shot one, a candid shot one, a "in the action" one, a steady one, and one that plans and oversees all of them, plus takes whatever pictures he does." She let out a frustrated sigh. "We're tasting food tomorrow." She said, leaning against him again. His breath blew her hair lightly, and his chest rose and fell comfortingly. "Will you come?"

Trunks heart stopped. Come? To test the food? Ever since he had proposed to her he had spent all his energies into avoiding anything to do with the wedding planning, and now she had asked him to join in one of the festive occasions. Come? No! No, no, NO!

"Of course I'll come." He said and she smiled. 


	4. Tell Them!

I know it's been a while, sorry about that. Things have been pretty crazy. My sister got engaged, again, to another guy (her other Fiancé and she broke it off in june), and I started a TON of back-to-school stuff including Japanese lessons, piano lessons, dance started up again, I'm trying to catch up with my math, taking guitar lessons, planning how I'm going to re-design my room, working on a website and an e-zine, and also the biggy—I'm working on a novel. A real one. Yup, I'm hoping to have the first book done by december, or at least a 1st or 2nd draft. (it's a trilogy) So when I publish it you can buy it! Or not. Whatever you want. Anywayz, yeah, my writing time's been taken up by that a lot. I apologize, and I will be working on my fics extra hard so I won't be leaving people hanging. (I hate when people do that to me, so I know how you feel!) Plus I'm working on 3 new fics, and I'm getting into two other Anime's as well. Won't bother telling you cause you probably don't care. Ok, fine, they're Angel Sanctuary and Weiss Kruez. You can bash 'em, love 'em, or just not know what they are. (there are so many lovers and bashers of those two! It's amazing the bi-polar aspect of it all!) This thing is getting too long, sorry about that—can you not tell I am overly frazzled? lol. Catch you later, hope you like the chappy—oh, and I've got a quick shoutout as well.

Shoutout:

I just want to thank all the readers of this 'fic who read A Change of Heart. I'm so glad you're interested enough to come back and read the continuation of their story. You have NO IDEA how touched I am that you're also enjoying this one—that was truly my goal, so make something fans of A Change of Heart could enjoy. It IS getting more lighthearted in future chappys, I promise. But thanks for reading, ya'll are what keep me going!

~*Acky

The day started uneventfully, and it dragged on uneventfully as well. That is, until the current point it had. Trunks, on an oversight (he had noticed it was an oversight the moment he had said it), had agreed to accompany the ladies to the caterer's today.

However, "testing the food" had turned into an afternoon filled with errands, from bakery (for some cake decisions), to dress shop (for a bridesmaid dresses price check), to florist ("did we order baby pink or champagne roses?" naturally they had to check), to tux shop ("Goten's neck is 16½, not 16").

Not to mention the countless cell phone calls to the band, Capsule Corps., the wedding planner (they had decided they did need one after all), the Son home, the other Son home, and some other calls he didn't even know who or where they were calling.

Finally they had arrived at the caterer's, where the wedding planner met up with them. She was an attractive woman about thirty, with a pink silk shantung suit on. The skirt, while standing, came to about mid thigh, and she had a lavender strapless top under her fitted and cropped suit coat. She had matching pink shoes on that came to such a point it was apparent they were from the runways of the fashion district, and she had a pink leather clutch-size purse over her shoulder with a silver buckle in an S shape.

Naturally Bulma would only hire the best. (When Pan and Videl insisted they didn't need a wedding planner Bulma agreed, though reluctantly. But when things became apparent that one would help their cause considerably, Bulma insisted she hire—and pay—for the best one in town herself.) However Trunks believed that the best would come in the form of a stuffy old woman who insisted everything be strict to Emily Post's book of Etiquette.

How could this attractive young lady be the priciest in town? And how could she have acquired the best contacts in the city? She very much reminded him of a wedding planner he saw in a movie once…but do those kind really exist? Apparently they did.

"Miss Son." She greeted Pan cheerfully. Her eyes darted to each person present in turn, Videl, Chi-Chi, Bulma, Eighteen. And when her eyes came to Trunks she had a broad smile for him. "And finally the groom is present!" She presented her hand. "Trunks Brief's, I'm sure?" He liked her a lot. Not to be stuck on himself, but she was the first woman who was genuinely nice without checking him out or hitting on him.

He gave a pleasant smile with a silent laugh, extending his own hand to take hers. Just to make sure, he felt to see how long she held his hand. She released it just as slow and just as quickly as when men shook his hand. Yes, she was a keeper.

Little did he know Pan had noticed the same thing with a happy smile.

Twenty minutes later the wedding planner, Crystal, was leading them through a massive roomed lined to the hilt in buffet tables, all laden with different wedding-day dishes. She held a clipboard against one arm, with a pen in her other hand as she spouted off things about the different dishes while they tasted them.

"This is the crab, scallop, and cheese stuffed herring." She said as they each took a little bit to taste. "It's a common favorite for bay and seaside weddings." She continued. "Do you like?" She questioned, watching them chew with contemplation. Each looked up and seemed to get a final taste of their mouthful before each commenting at once.

"It's really good." Pan said positively. Then, with a quiet, airy voice she said, almost to herself, "A seaside wedding would be gorgeous." Crystal perked a brow up and seemed to scribble a note.

"Are you perhaps now considering a seaside wedding, Miss Son?" She asked, tuning out everyone else's looks and comments. "It would be lovely—"

"Oh, I don't think so." Videl said, and the other ladies seemed to agree, except for Eighteen, the only one to catch Pan's somewhat disappointed look, small as it was.

"You don't think it would be pleasant?" Eighteen suggested on Pan's behalf. "I definitely think it'd be something to remember." She had a cheery expression on, as if a slight brainstorm had hit.

"I—" Pan began, but was cut off.

"Of course not!" Bulma announced, bellowing over Pan's attempted comment. "Besides, she wouldn't want that." She said dismissively, and they moved on to the next platter of food.

~*

Pan and Trunks plopped into two olive green leather chairs with a small, round table interrupting the distance between them. Both looked completely pooped, however Pan had an eyebrow arched in an expression that suggested she had been through this before…many a time.

Trunks eyed the fake plant set on the table, particularly some green, leafy thing that resembled nothing he had ever seen before. It was like a stick with round-like leaves on each side, and he poked it before batting at it curiously.

"I want to go home." She moaned, and Trunks snorted.

"_You_ want to go home?" He asked sarcastically, which caused her to return a glare his way.

"Do you think I actually like doing this?" She snapped. "I'm only doing this because it has to be done and I don't trust all the moms to be put in charge of making every decision; they're already making most of them." She continued in a snappy tone.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He soothed. "This long day has just left us edgy." She nodded with a sigh.

"What time is it?" She quizzed, and he pulled up the same old, scratched up watch he'd had forever, as if he didn't_ want_ to part with it.

"5:50." He answered, and he moved to snuggle more comfortably in the upholstery, making the leather crackle just a bit and make a rubbing sound like an inner tube.

"Five fifty?" She gasped, and he nodded. They'd left Capsule Corps. at 8:30am. "Geeze," She made that same move to get more comfortable, but just as she did the mothers rounded the corner—apparently done tasting desserts—and approached her with tons of questions.

Crystal quieted them all down and presented her with the options.

"Crab, scallop and cheese stuffed herring, with the—"

Everything else was lost in a sea as Pan sat, mute, listening to her go on and on and on, all of the options swimming together so much she couldn't even remember what cheese was.

When it was finished Pan knew what she would say.

"Can I think on it," The mother's gasped, apparently thinking of how little time they had. "for just a bit?" The last past seemed to appease them though, and Crystal smiled knowingly.

"I'll type them up and send them in an email to you by tonight…is the morning after next too early?" She asked gingerly.

"Not at all. I can get you the answer tomorrow night, actually." Pan smiled and Crystal returned an appreciative one.

"Well, what's next?" Eighteen asked, looking as if she only could imagine one option…that she'd agree on that is.

"Home." Gasped Videl. "Sweet, merciful home." She said with a great sigh. "Pan, do you need to—"

"I was wondering if I could run her home, Videl…if that's ok?" Videl nodded, though with curiosity. "I was hoping to take her out to dinner. That is," He looked at Pan. "if she's up to it." Pan nodded silently, and Videl agreed that was perfectly fine with her.

"We'll have to catch the bus," He explained with a questioning tone, asking if that was all right. "and then we'll pick up my car at CC." She nodded, too tired to even speak, and they parted company with everyone as the ladies hopped into a mini-van and drove off and Crystal did the same.

Trunks and Pan walked down the sidewalk to the nearest bus stop, and he casually slid his hand around hers. Her fingers felt limp and lifeless intertwined with his, and he furrowed his brows. Ever since the second half of the tasting festival something had been wrong, and he wouldn't take her home before finding out exactly what it was.

They didn't have to wait long for the bus, and they hopped in and took a seat near the front. Immediately Pan leaned her cheek on his shoulder, and wrapped her arms around his one arm that was closest to her, snuggling up like she was going to take a nap.

"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning his head onto hers and adjusting to make them both more comfortable. She sighed without a word, and offered no reply or answer, so he decided to go for a yes or no question.

"Same as what's been bothering you lately? At least, what's been bothering you most." She offered no reply or answer still, but she nodded her head just barely. It was his turn to sigh, and he leaned to the left, away from her, and chose to wrap his arm around her instead. She slid to lie against his chest, her fingers curled adorably into a delicate fist, her dark hair falling before her face as if to shield her away.

It was like this they rode until they reach Capsule Corporations to pick up his car, and as they came to the stop, he had a hard time getting up from his comfortable position. He hadn't chose to ask her any more questions, and so they had rode there in complete silence. She arose in a sleepy stupor, telling him she had fallen asleep on the way, and she leaned on him heavily as they walked to his car, nearly plopping into the drivers seat when he helped her in.

"Why don't," He began, turning the wheel sharply to get the car onto the road. "we grab some drive-thru and then go park somewhere and eat it?"

"Sounds great." She agreed, lying the seat all the way back and snuggling on her side, facing him. She wouldn't fall asleep again, but she was still trying to shake off that sleepy haze.

"Where do you want to pick up the eats, then?"

~*

Two hours later Trunks and Pan walked along the bay, their feet tapping the pavement of the bay-side park's sidewalk. The sun dipped halfway into the watery horizon, sending a luminous orange glow about everything.

They had snagged Chinese at _Hot Wok_, a fast-food place, and, in a random and spontaneous moment, decided to drive to the south bay, a good hour or so south. They had found a parking spot with a glorious view, and eaten leisurely in the car where their chopsticks clacked to break the silence as they dived into the Chinese take-out boxes. The silence hadn't been awkward though, and when they finished their Saiyan-sized helpings, Trunks suggested a walk along the bay.

And it was where they were now, walking in comfortable silence, holding hands, their arms swinging here and there with their steps. She sighed, quiet as a whisper, and he squeezed her hand, pulling her over to a bench and sitting down, tugging her onto his lap.

"What'd I do?" He asked in a sincere tone, wrapping his arms around her waist, leaning his chin on her shoulder.

"Nothing," She smiled, tilting her cheek on his head. "Why do you think you did something?" She prodded, and she could feel him let out a smiling sigh.

"Cause you're upset." He said matter-of-factly. It was her turn to let out a 'smiling sigh'. She began to deny it but was cut off. "Don't you tell me you're not upset." He told her. Her open mouth froze before her brows furrowed poutingly. He started to chuckle. "You were about to tell me that, weren't you?"

"Oh, shut up." She batted at his cheek.

"Tell me what's wrong." He prodded, tightening his arms around her and gaining the sincere tone again. He felt her sigh, and he picked up his head, leaning his lips on her shoulder now as he waited for her to answer.

"Oh, nothing." She sighed.

"Tell me." He prodded further.

"It's just…it's just the same old thing." She said pathetically. He rolled his eyes and forced out a sigh. "But—" He picked her up, cutting her off, and sat her down next to him, turning to face.

"Tell them." He declared, stretching his arm out in a frustrated pointing motion. "Tell them!" He jerked his hand in a point again. "Stop sniffling and whining about it, and go tell them!" She turned away from him, facing front, and leaned on her knees. She leant her head on the palm of her hand, and her right hand grasped her left elbow.

She looked out into the bay where the sunset shone purple and electric pink, contrasting with the blue of the ocean.

A tear slid down her right cheek, and he lost it. Lost all his argument, lost all his boldness, lost all his gall. Instead he turned to a puddle of mush and stumbled over himself to try and comfort her. He hated it when she cried! He felt so useless, so helpless, such a…nothing. He felt like nothing, nobody—and he had to comfort her ASAP!

"Panny," He pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry." He apologized, brushing his fingers through her hair. Usually a floodgate opened then, but he was surprised when only single tears fell here and there. At least when she cried she was doing something! But this silent, barely crying upsetness made him feel so weak!

"Why are you being so patient?" He questioned, smoothing her hair. "This is beyond just being nice, Panny—you've got to let them know you're not happy, that you want things different…I honestly don't think they'll care; they know it's your wedding." He smoothed her hair still as he waited for her to form her words.

"It's…" She said after a while. "It's…don't you understand?" No, he didn't understand. He bit his lip and waited for her to explain; he knew she would. "They never had weddings." She said simply, and a tiny, minuscule light clicked. He had gotten it…somewhat.

"They never had weddings?" He questioned, trying to get her to continue some more.

"Your mom did, yes…and Eighteen kind of, but…" She wiped away a tear. "My mom and my grandma didn't really get the weddings they REALLY wanted…and I think that they're…well, they're kind of living through me."

"And that's why you feel bad?" She nodded. "You think you're denying them their own weddings, kind of?" She nodded again. "I still don't think they'll care, Pan. Of all things, they want you to have the wedding they didn't have, and that means that you're completely happy with everything." He squeezed her hand in emphasis for the word _completely_.

"Panny," He soothed, turning her to face him, grasping her shoulders tenderly. "Give it just a bit—three days. Give it three days and I swear, I swear everything will be better." He looked at her hopefully.

"Ok," She agreed, maybe only just to shut him up and feel he had done something productive with the situation. "Can we go home now?"

The ride home had been fine. In fact, things were great. Pan had turned more normal by then, and they talked about the things they usually did, sometimes they didn't talk at all, or maybe sometimes they just listened or sung along with music. The drive went by pretty fast, and soon they were at Capsule Corps. where everyone had agreed that night to games or a movie.

Pan dashed up the stairs to use the bathroom, and it was then that he took his chance. Ducking into the kitchen where all the mothers were, they were somewhat confused when he said, very seriously, "I've got to talk to all of you. Now."


	5. Good Intentions Backfire

And here's another chapter! I want you to know that this one came in a very random series of inspirations in very random places. One while I was in church—if I burn in hell you'll know what happened—one in the car on the way back from my sisters', mothers', and my trip from the tux shop (my sister's getting married), and one while I was cleaning the kitchen. Strange, eh? Updates might not be as frequent, I'm working on several upcoming projects, an awesome, kick-butt website, my sister's getting married Nov. 1st, and I just got a job—today! Anywayz, wish me luck, I'm nervous I'll mess up everything. Yeah, onto something more pleasant. So yeah, enjoy the chapter—did I mention it was written entirely with the Escaflowne soundtrack in the background? Random fact you might want to know…for a strange, weird, stalker-esque reason. rolls eyes Ignore me, and enjoy the chapter!

"You know, they're being a lot more attentive to my opinions as of late." Pan and Trunks sat in a cozy café, sipping mochas and cappuccinos several days after Trunks' 'encounter' with the mothers.

"Maybe they caught on to what they were doing." He sipped his tall cappuccino and then set it down swiftly. "You know, maybe Eighteen said something!" He looked as if the mystery had been solved thanks to his genius. "I noticed how, at the caterer's, she was the only one who gave your ocean—water—whatever-side wedding any thought. I think maybe she's caught on with everything." Pan looked thoughtful as her eyes stayed focused on the _caffeine shack _logo on his styrofoam cup.

"Maybe…" She spoke slowly, undecidedly, but Trunks wasn't nervous. She was only contemplative, not investigative.

"Good mocha?" He asked, changing the subject, stirring his cappuccino absentmindedly. She nodded, still thinking, and he dove for a chance to get her out of this pondering state. "Do you want a cinnamon roll? I was going to get one…"

"Sure, that sounds good." She blinked, then produced a smile that relieved him. He jogged over to the counter, his mind suddenly realizing perhaps she would have even more time to ponder with him gone, but he dismissed it—he was overreacting.

A friendly girl with a cute, short, flipped out hairdo greeted him cheerfully, and they joked over her not being able to realize which scone he was pointing to through the glass case. Unbeknownst to him she had known the entire time _exactly_ which two scones he had wanted, and was buying for time to talk and laugh with him.

And could she help it? She was a nice enough girl, cute, and sweet—even the nice girls hit on him in their own way. Oh, the bulging head Trunks would have if he knew exactly how many girls glanced twice, or found excuses to walk by him, or keep him talking to them longer. They couldn't help it, though—none of them—and so even the nice girls were caught in the act.

"$4.27 please." She said with a smile, holding out her hand to accept the offered change. "Thank you." Again she cheerfully smiled before bowing her head to put the change away, and he went to his table with his wallet a little more empty.

The cashier dashed off to the wall phone and dialed hastily before cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear.

"Jess?" She quizzed when someone answered. "You'll never guess who I met!" She squealed. The conversation that followed included more girlish squeals and Kinna's, the cashier's, explanation of every minuscule detail and how she had exchanged her own money in the cash register for the change he had given her.

"I have it in my hand!" She nearly shouted, then giggled. Oh, if only Trunks knew of the fuss that was being made over him. However, he didn't know, and was sharing half of his own scone with Pan who had decided they were delicious.

"F'nk ooh," She mumbled, her mouth full of the blueberry confection, and Trunks shook his head, though he smiled nonetheless. This was soon followed by a request for him to retrieve some more, which he did without complaint, allowing the cashier some more _souvenir_ money, and the excuse to call "Jess" again.

This time she ate a little more slowly, and he had come prepared with enough that he could have a whole one to himself as well. They enjoyed their scones in basic silence for several moments before he spoke.

"What are you thinking about?" His cerulean eyes seemed to dazzle with his pure love for her as they rested upon her face that was so serene as she sipped her mocha thoughtfully, watching the mud-colored foam float upon the surface.

She smiled without a word, a happy, reminiscent one. She blinked, her eyes opening to reveal that they gazed on him.

"How did it happen? She mused. "Look at the road we traveled to be here, drinking from paper cups something that isn't necessarily good for us." She laughed. "When did you realize you loved me?" She asked.

He looked upon her face, the one that was intoxicatingly delicate and beautiful to him. Like an angel with a lush, dark halo about her she was breathtaking, sitting with a tan raincoat wrapped around her, cradling a cup in her slender fingers, her lips in a dewy, baby pink pout.

"It was when we went shopping for your clothes, and you came out in that purple dress that you first took my breath away. It was that night when we danced on water that I first longed to kiss you—in the elevator the desire was so strong that I did, and felt foolish and rejected with you seemed to not have any reaction, any change in your expression afterwards." She laughed silently.

"It was when I saw you and Larkin in the airport that I wished my life would end I was so crushed.

"And when I saw you at Christmas I thanked Dende for giving me a second chance—even though I thought I was the furthest thing from your mind I had to tell you I loved you more than the breath I have to breath to live—more than life itself." Her eyes, liquid bright, blinked in an attempt to clear the haze she was seeing.

"But, you asked when I first loved you…" He seemed to bite his tongue thoughtfully for a moment. "I have loved you since that stormy day that I comforted you." She smiled, just barely. "You mean since I loved you in that romantic way that I do now, though." Her smile, though still faint, showed the smallest bit of teeth as it broadened.

"I can't tell you, because it's been so gradual I don't even remember when it started. To me it seems like I've loved you all my life." He concluded. Her smile grew to its natural, Son state, and he drew his tongue over his right side of front teeth through his own smile.

"You remember that?" She questioned. "I thought it was something you forgot a long time ago." Her head shook in a musing way. "I thought that was a memory that only I cherished."

"How could I forget it? He exclaimed. "It had such an impact on me…" They exchanged smiles.

"There was never a day after that that I didn't have a crush on you." She reminisced, shaking her head, and he laughed.

"So, let's talk about this crush that you had for so long." He leaned back in his chair, and it was her turn to laugh.

~*

"Ok, ladies." Bulma said in a business-like tone, plopping down in her seat, opening up a notebook and uncapping a pen.

Eighteen raised a hand like she was in a classroom, and all eyes turn to her.

"I think she might like a bayside wedding." She commented after clearing her throat, and Bulma's pen scribbled away.

~*

Trunks and Pan walked into Capsule Corps. hand in hand after their morning out, and Bulma greeted them directly.

"Pan, can we grab you for a moment?" She asked casually. "Wedding stuff." She explained. Pan's brows rose in mild surprise; she had the entire day free of wedding stuff—she remembered only too well how much had been switched and arranged to allow that.

"Sure, Bulma." She let go of Trunks' hand and he went into the kitchen in search of food. "What's up? I thought I had the day off." She questioned, following Bulma into the den.

"Oh, something came up, that's all. It won't take long." All the mothers were in the den when they came in, wearing bright, smiling faces. "There are some changes we need to make, and we want your opinion."

~*

"The wedding's going to be great." Pan smiled, standing on the deck with Eighteen.

"I'm glad. Are you happy with everything?" Eighteen pried good-naturedly.

"Oh, yes!" Pan answered happily. Then she grabbed Eighteen's arm and gave her a little squeeze. "Now tell me what happened." She prodded cheerfully, though infinitely serious.

~*

Finally when Trunks and Pan were alone together, she grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the nearest wall.

"You meddling prick!" She snapped, and it took him several seconds to realize what she was talking about. "How dare you!"

"I was only trying to help." He apologized when she had released him. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings," He soothed. "but I really was only trying to help." She plopped into an easy chair and leant her head on her fingers with a deep sigh.

"Panny," He comforted, brushing his fingers though her hair, but she jerked away. "I'm sorry." He nearly whispered. She stood up briskly and left the room without a word.

He let himself fall into the chair she had just vacated, and he sighed, shaking his head.

How had he been so stupid?

~*

Pan paced Bura's vacant bedroom, her arms folded, her legs shuffling briskly. She knew he had only been trying to help—but did he honestly realized what he'd done? Did he even stop to think of the consequences? She had told him, hadn't she, that she didn't want them to know her feelings?

She plopped on the bed, her palms flat against her forehead in a frustrated position. Did he honestly—did he honestly—did he…. She sighed. Why was such a little thing bothering her like this?

She was so irritated with—everything. Not to mention she was irritated that she was irritated. Irritated that everything as of late irritated her. She sighed, again. She sure must be a bundle of joy at present. This thought made her roll her eyes, but she couldn't quite pin why she had.

With nothing else to do she sighed yet again, mad at him, mad at her family and friends, but most especially mad at herself. What had they truly done that she should be mad at them anyway? It was on this thought that she rolled over and fell asleep.

~*

Trunks knocked lightly on Bura's door; he knew Pan had come in here. When no one answered he gently pushed it open to find Pan lying on the bed, her face to the wall. He crept into the room quietly, sliding the door shut as careful as possible, and walked over to the bed and sat on the edge.

He drew an arm over to the other side of her head and leant on it for support, his other hand gently brushing at her hair and stroking her face. He wished she knew how much he felt bad about what he had done…but inside he knew she did, she just needed time to cool off.

He brushed a long, wispy bang from her eye and sighed. He loved her so much…how could any person love another person so much? He never had imagined he would ever love anyone or anything this deeply, but he did, and he'd risk anything for this love he hadn't ever believed in until it had happened.


	6. I Promise To Be Normal

Another chapter! Yes, pretty soon, eh? This one came on true inspiration tonight, and was written in one sitting…'mazing, isn't it? I hope you enjoy, and well, Pan's heading for some trouble now. Hehe. I can't WAIT to write the next chapter or chapters. (who knows how long this in-story plot will last, eh?) lol. I'm just so mysterious, aren't I? Anywayz, I'm going to run, but I don't have anything to do with the restaurant name Wilson Walker House; it's a local, really nice one around here, and of course I don't own the TV show Trading Spaces. Yup, I think that's it for this chappy – please enjoy and review!

~*Astarii

Trunks sunk into his black leather desk chair, his hand lazily tapping the _play messages_ button on his answering machine. He brushed a hand through his lavender hair as the messages played on, and punched a button for Claire to bring him coffee.

She smiled warmly as she entered in silence, trying not to disturb his listening, and set the cup down on his desk, sliding it to him as she leant over the surface. He nodded with a smile gratefully, and started sipping as his apparently endless messages played on.

Several minutes later an annoying, three tone beep signaled the last message, and he took a relieved sip, realizing, unless this next message did, none of the messages had bade him to do anything save take something to notice.

His lips touched the rim of the cup just as Pan's voice rang out in a shout.

"Trunks…_fuzz_…I need to…_fuzz_…talk to you!" Her voice sounded desperate, ringing with emergency, and he spilt his coffee all over his shirt and pants. He lunged forward for the phone, cursing under his breath as the breakfast blend coffee singed his clothes and burned his skin.

He jerked the phone to his ear and yelled _Pan_ into the voice-activated speed-dial, and soon he heard ringing in the earpiece before Videl picked up the phone cheerily.

"Where's Pan?" He shouted. "Is she OK? Where is she!" There was silence for several moments before Videl responded, using a tone like a person speaking to a slow, mentally ill person.

"Trunks? Is this you?" She asked warily, and he could just picture the look on her face as if she was there.

"Yes, yes! Where's Pan?" He shouted again, and he imagined she must have pulled the phone from her ear to prevent deafness.

"Yes, Trunks, she's here. And she's fine." She still had that wary tone as if she thought he had gone crazy and it frustrated him, though now he was breathing sighs of relief. "Do you want to talk to her?" She then asked, and with panting breaths he must have said yes.

He could hear Videl yelling for Pan, and he heard loud music erupt from somewhere in the Son house; apparently she had been listening to it in her room. Soon thundering pounds thudded down the stairs, and he could hear the phone being passed around.

"'Oo?" He heard her whisper. "'Frunks?" She asked her mother in disbelief. "'ut does 'ee 'unt?" He could hear the phone shuffling against something again, and Pan's voice—clearly muffled by food in her mouth—talk to him.

"'Frunks?" She asked into the phone before swallowing her mouthful. "What do you want?" She now asked, her mouth clear. "Is something wrong?" She then got worried, her voice rushed.

"I should ask you the same question." He said sarcastically. "I got a phone call on message machine from you, all fuzzy and shouting that you needed to talk to me." He could hear her laugh. "I was worried sick, thanking you were hurt or in trouble…"

"Do you think I'd leave a _message_ if I was being kidnapped?" She laughed. "I was out with Marron last night and we were driving with the windows open. I was shouting cause I wanted you to be able to hear me, and of course you can probably now conclude we were in a bad area for my cell phone." He shook his head, smirking at his stupidity and madman rush for the phone.

"You moron." She scolded. "Hey, but now that I'm talking to you…um, what are you doing for lunch?" He scanned his schedule really quickly.

"Meeting up with Conner—"

"Oh…"

"But I can cancel, Pan." He offered sweetly. "Did you want to have lunch with me?" She smiled.

"Would it be too much trouble?" She asked, feeling him out. "I wouldn't want to make you—"

"No, no." He insisted. "I'll call him right now. Um…" He bit his lip, thinking. "where do you want to eat? What about Wilson Walker?" She thought about it a moment before agreeing. "See you at one?"

"Yeah, see you then." She said, steering towards her goodbye. "Trunks," She added quickly. "I love you." He couldn't keep his lips from spreading into a smile.

"I love you too, Panny."

~*

"Pan?" Bura's knuckles rapped lightly on Pan's door. She pushed it open after Pan told her to come in, and she grinned upon seeing her friend. "Hey there, cutie." Bura greeted, sitting on the bed, watching Pan do her makeup. "Where're you going looking so snazzy?" Her eyes roamed over the outfit and shoes that were out, and she paid attention to how carefully Pan was doing eyeliner.

"Trunks and I are going out to lunch." She said merrily, capping her eyeliner and drawing mascara out of her makeup bag. "He's taking me to Wilson Walker House." She turned around and they exchanged knowing grins.

"No wonder you're dressing snazzy; that place is amazing! It's so quaint and yet to formal." She sighed. "I'm going to have to have Donny take me soon—we've barely been seeing each other lately." Bura sighed. "But we're both busy, so it's all good." She giggled. "It's not like I'm all pining for him or anything." Pan smiled as she brushed her lashes with the wand.

"So what's up with you and Trunks lately?" She asked, picking up Pan's latest _Martial Arts_ magazine. She bit her lip and shook her head. "You know, it's a sin to look at these guys." She flopped it back on the bed.

"Not if you don't look at it just to look at the guys." Pan insisted, and Bura shook her head as if that was a preposterous idea.

"So, you've still got to answer my question." She said matter-of-factly. "About you and Trunks." She said when Pan furrowed her brows. "What's up with you two?"

"Nothing." Pan replied simply, and Bura nodded knowingly, chuckling just barely. "What?"

"Well, that's exactly it." Bura explained. "There's nothing going on with you two. I mean, spice some things up."

"We're getting married." Pan patted some blush into her cheeks and twisted the cap back on the tint.

"So? Donny and I are getting married…but you and Trunks act like an old married couple already." Pan shook her head before twisting her lip liner up and applying it. "You need to act like you're still dating. If you don't you'll be sick of each other by the time the honeymoon's here." Pan smiled, shaking her head at Bura. "I'm serious!"

"What would you suggest?" The darker of the two asked, holding her lip liner stationary away from her lips, though she wasn't done. Bura seemed to think for a moment, then she got the expression of someone whose light bulb had just clicked on above their head.

"Why don't you fake something!" Pan, who'd heard a lot of girlfriends faking pregnancies at school expected Bura to be speaking of the same thing.

"We haven't ever—"

"First, I don't want to know about _that_, and second, I wasn't talking about _that_." She rolled her eyes. "I mean a fake breakup or something—make him want you, girl!" It was Pan's turn to roll her eyes. "Maybe too drastic?" She mused. "Or perhaps you think he wouldn't chase after you?" Pan, finished with her liner, dropped it into the bag with a _clack_.

"I would _hope_ he'd chase after me." Bura laughed just barely. "At least…I hope he would." Pan seemed thoughtful, her hand in the makeup bag, the task of getting the lipgloss out long forgotten.

"Of course he would!" Bura insisted. "But we need to plan something."

"Why?"

"Why? Because it'd be fun—OK, it'd serve a purpose as well. It'd make him realize how much he truly loves you—"

"I think he already—"

"_And_," Bura said slowly, glaring. "it'd put some more romantic spark into everything." She threw her legs under her in a crossed position in a final way.

"Wha—?"

"I know exactly what we'll do." She said, picking up another magazine from her bedside table. Pan finished her makeup and slid a pair of earrings into her ears before pulling her dress off the hanger. "We'll stage a kidnapping." She said simply, looking at the horoscope page.

"A what?" Pan gasped from her walk in closet where she was changing.

"A kidnapping." Bura said louder. Pan came out from the closet flabbergasted. "Doesn't it sound perfect? He'll rush to your salvation like a knight in shining armor!" She giggled as if talking about a romantic, medieval chick-flick.

"Wha—?" Still unbelieving, she slipped into her shoes and shook her head as if she'd heard the most random, shocking news in the world. "Hey," She put a finger up. "I have to go…but we'll talk about this because…because…well, I just think—why? Never mind. We'll talk later, ok?" Bura nodded happily. "Ok…bye!" She left the room and Bura turned back to the magazine.

~*

Black, raw silk back less mules stepped on the burgundy carpet. A stunning woman in a v-neck, calf-length, sleeveless dress appeared at the top of a set of shallow, short stairs that led into the dining room.

A matching jacket was slung over one arm, and her eyes scanned the crowd—Ah! There! A man stood at one of the higher tables, his lavender hair spilling, as it usually did, on his forehead.

She smiled, pearly white, and glided down the stairs towards him, black pearl earrings in her ears, a simple black pearl necklace bobbing on her neck. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, but pieces—to her, annoyingly—fell around her face.

"You look gorgeous." Her date said in awe as he pulled her chair out for her, and she grinned, pecking him on the cheek before sitting down. "How's your day been?" He asked, sliding into his seat opposite her.

"Good…boring." She added, shaking her head. "How about you?" He nodded leaning forward on his arms that rested on the tabletop.

"The same…well, busy, but nothing interesting. And, well, that's nothing new." They both smiled, and Pan realized she was racking her brain for something to say. She felt a little awkward, yet so distantly not, however still there was the fact of the silence that had ensued. He didn't seem to be suffering from the same symptom; he just looked at her contentedly, as if taking in everything, yet nothing at all.

"Does anything look good?" She finally asked, flipping open her menu. "Have you decided yet?" He blinked, then opened his own.

"I was thinking about the blackened chicken sandwich." He said as he scanned the rows. "Does anything look good to you?"

"Maybe the crab cake sandwich." She said, and he agreed it sounded good just before a waitress appeared. She stood tentatively to the side, and Pan told him she was ready before he nodded her over.

"Are you ready, sir?" She asked. She drew out a pad and pen and clicked it open.

"She will have the crab cake sandwich," The waitress scribbled. "and I will have the blackened chicken sandwich with a caesar salad for myself and a house salad for her. And could you bring her extra dressing? And she'd like a side of french fries." The waitress nodded and disappeared seemingly to nowhere, and Pan smiled.

"You know everything I like and how I want it." She mused. And he chuckled as if he'd just noticed it. "It's really comforting to know in a strange way, that you know what to order me every time…but then again you always know how I like everything from popcorn to hot chocolate." She grinned. "Trunks," She said suddenly. "do you think we act like an old couple?" He nodded.

"Yeah, we probably do…is that depressing?" They both laughed. "Did my knowing you wanted extra salad dressing confirm your belief?" 

"Well, that made me think of it. Your sister came by and she said we needed to 'spice things up', but what does she want us to do, go clubbing every night?" She laughed. "I just thought it was funny."

The waitress came and brought their waters and salads—with extra dressing—and disappeared again. 

"So, Trunks," Pan began on a serious note, poking into her salad. "about why I wanted to see you today." He looked up, listening, as he drizzled dressing on his own salad. "I wanted to apologize for me being so weird. So…crazy." He shrugged it off.

"You're stressed." He gave her an excuse matter-of-factly. "It's really OK, Pan, I understa—"

"No, I've really been acting bizarre, and I wanted to apologize…and, well…I wanted to tell you I promise to be normal from now on." He smiled, chuckling. "I'm serious!" She said, trying to darken the conversation. "I really promise. No matter what goes wrong, we'll still get married, we'll still have a good day, and it's not like anything can ruin our _life_." He nodded, agreeing.

"So I promise to be normal, OK?"

"Ok." He smiled.

~*

"You're still here?" Pan asked, walking in her living room to find Bura watching TV. She plopped on the couch next to her. "Don't you have your own house today? Or is it closed for the day?" Bura laughed and tossed Pan the remote.

"There's _nothing_ on, good luck."

"Trading Spaces!" Pan announced, flipping on channel seventy-eight. Bura groaned. "Oh, come on! You know you watch it when no one's around." They caught each other's eye and smiled.

"OK, OK, I admit it." They both laughed. "So, um, how about this fake kidnapping we're planning?"

"_We're_ planning?" Pan asked in disbelief. "This is all you, and I'm not going along with it." Bura sat up straighter. "Seriously, Bura, how weird is that? Plan a kidnapping? You're nutso. Besides, how pathetic is that?"

"You're in denial, Pan! You've got to do this—did he not order everything for you practically?" Pan's jaw dropped.

"How—"

"He always does, Pan, that's how I know. If you don't do it then you're admitting you know you're in need of help."

"This is crazy!"

"Oh, come on—after it's all done he'll never know, and if he does, by some amazing magic, it'll all be a big practical joke. Oh, come on, Pan!" She begged. "I'm not doing this for anyone but you two." Her eyes drooped like a puppy dog.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"Bura—"

"Pan." They locked eyes. "Do you honestly want to fall into a rut with him?"

"I won't—"

"You already have!" Pan sighed. "Come on, Pan." She pleaded with her eyes again. "Please?"

"Fine." Pan gave up, and Bura cheered, her mind already racking itself to plan their illustrious event. Pan could already see the trouble that was ahead, the plans Bura must already have, the mess this would turn into…

"What am I getting myself into?" She pleaded aloud.


	7. Change In The Plans

Time for another chapter! Hope it hasn't been too long for you, and hopefully you won't go too crazy at the end. Hehe. For once in my life I don't really have anything to say – except to thank everyone for their patience because I've been slowing down since I got my job and all. Anywayz, love to all my readers, you guys are great!

"OK, here's the deal." Bura grinned mischievously. "I got Donny to say he'd do it." Pan rolled her eyes. And, well, that was after she had groaned. "He's going to snag you at the 4th and 25th street bus stop in a van. He'll drive you around, you'll call trunks and make it sound realistic, tell him the location of the 49th street warehouse. That's where Donny will take you. Donny runs when he sees Trunks, Trunks saves you, blah, blah, blah, romantic spark is back. Bam!" Marron giggled and Pan looked at her with a cocked brow.

"Well," She excused herself. "It just sounds so funny." Bura rolled her eyes at Marron's obvious poking fun at her plan.

"It sounds realistic! Seriously. We're going to dress Pan up like a hot babe." Pan looked between them both, just being told this part of the scheme. "And we're doing it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Marron's eyes became wide. "We're really doing this so soon?" Bura nodded proudly, and Pan nodded sadly.

The doorbell rang downstairs, and Pan jumped off of the bed.

"That'll be Trunks; he's coming over for dinner." Both the girls giggled while Pan slid her house shoes on, and she looked at them, confused. "What?" She snapped.

"You sure got up and ready in a hurry…what is it, Pan? Do you actually love my brother?" Pan rolled her eyes. "OK, OK, we'll slip out. See you later—I'll call you for details, Kay?"

Pan nodded, but before anyone moved the door opened and Trunks and Goten walked in.

"You ready for dinner?" Goten asked, turning to Marron. She looked surprised, then disappointed. "Forgot?" She nodded. "That's OK…do you still want to go though?"

"Um…sure. Yeah. We'll catch you guys later." She left, hand-in-hand with Goten, and Trunks and Pan exchanged smiles.

"They're such a cute couple." Pan giggled. "Do we act like that?" She asked Bura, and Bura nodded. "Good."

"Good?" Her nearly sister-in-law asked her. "Do you think it's good to be old fogies before you're twenty-five?" She seemed baffled. "I'm gonna leave you two alone, then." She winked. "I'll call you later, Pan." Pan nodded.

Both left on the note that they knew more than the male that was in the room.

~*

Silverware clanked and scraped, but it was the only sound in the room, save the turned on TV that could be heard from the _next_ room. Pan cleared her throat, the silence tangible. It was never this quiet when she ate at Capsule Corps. So why was it here? Everyone was comfortable with each other and all.

She then realized that usually, at Capsule Corps., the topic was either controversial, comprising of a disagreement, or a full out argument. She smiled to herself, stifled a chuckle, however the others at the table caught it and looked at her.

"What's so funny, sweety?" Her mother asked kindly, a pleasant smile of her own on her full lips. Pan put a finger to her mouth and cleared her throat.

"Oh, um, nothing. Nothing really." The silence returned before Trunks sat his silverware down and looked at Videl.

"I'm sorry about that phone call yesterday." He apologized. "The one where, um, I—"

"Oh, don't worry about it, Trunks." She smiled knowingly. "I'm very happy to know you're beginning to take over the task of worrying about Pan." Gohan nodded, pulling himself into the conversation, and Pan looked down at her plate, half embarrassed and half annoyed.

"She's a hassle, Trunks…do you know this yet?" His son-in-law chuckled. "Sometimes she decides to—"

"Dad!"

"What? He already knows all about you, Pan. Besides, you _are_ marrying him. Can't hide any secrets anymore." He seemed to reminisce.

"_Da-ud_." Pan drew out the word and emphasized it like an average annoyed teenager, and Gohan shook off his reminiscing and chuckled lightly. "Enough about this. He may even decide to cancel the wedding after dinner now." Gohan and Trunks exchanged looks that agreed to humor her.

"So, Pan, tomorrow we're going to go by the club and they said they'd give us a tour. Is three or so OK?"

"No!" All eyes turned to Pan. "It's just, uh…" She looked down at her plate. "Trunks was planning on taking me out." She said it very quickly, quietly…convincingly. Videl nodded, thinking. 

"Well, that's fine sweety—"

"Really, we can just go out later—or tomorrow maybe." Trunks suggested diplomatically. Pan's eyes darted to him.

"But—" He looked at her. "You _did_ say you had something special." She prodded. "And, really, we can do that another time…right, mom?" Videl nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, that's fine. Let me go call Bulma and Chi-Chi, oh, and Eighteen too." With that she got up and went into the kitchen, and they could hear her talking to someone in the background.

"Um, Pan?" She looked across the table at Trunks. She could see her father, in the corner of her eye, attempt to be invisible and attempt to ignore them as well. She smirked.

"Do you want to go outside?" She suggested, and after he agreed, they escaped to the deck. "So, want did you want?" She asked, bracing her hips against the wooden rail. She perked her brow, her hands slung on her hips, and Trunks shook his head slightly, tossing lavender hair in his eyes as he smiled.

"I just wanted to be alone with you." He confessed, and she chuckled.

"You dirty, dirty boy." She scolded, and his facial expression defended himself. "Don't deny it!" She poked a finger to his rock-hard chest. "You wanted to kiss me—didn't you?" She dramatically turned her head to the side and cast her eyes downward.

"You're right." He threw his hands up, defeated. "Dead right. I just can't keep anything from you, can I?" She shook her head, and smiled as he leant down and pressed his lips against hers.

"I'm so lucky that you decided to love a guy like me." He said happily, holding her in a cute embrace. Suddenly Pan was hit with a ball of guilt in her stomach. Was she really tricking this guy into such a devious little plan? How could she plot such a thing?

She felt totally sick, totally stupid, and totally immature. She sighed against his chest—how could he love _her_?

~*

Goten and Marron sat across from each other at the kitchen table, both scooping their spoons into the ice-cream container, giggling about the different events of their days and generally enjoying their company.

"So what did you do at Pan's?" He then asked, and she swallowed her ice-cream and licked the spoon thoughtfully. She bit her lip, and his expression prodded her.

"Um, nothing." She said casually, scooping more ice-cream.

"Come on, Marron—what did you guys do that was so secretive?" She chewed her lip nervously. Both sides pulled at her—tell or don't tell. She knew that this whole thing was a huge mistake, something that'd blow up in Pan's and Bura's faces—not to mention her own—but she could trust Goten, right? I mean, in the last couple months they had grown closer than close…right?

"Promise not to tell?"

~*

Trunks closed the door quietly behind himself. He had his jacket slung over one shoulder, and he trotted up the steps two at a time. His feet carried him into his room, and he tossed his coat over the computer chair and kicked his shoes off by the door.

Why did Pan always make him feel like this? Lighter than air—like he was flying without realizing it. Why did she always make him feel like he was in that dreamy, hazy, perfect world? Why, when he was with her, did everything feel so…right…?

He plopped on the bed and sighed. He was tired, but not necessarily sleepy. He decided to watch some of the tube, but when he reached for the remote the phone rang, and, for some strange reason, he picked it up.

"Yeah?"

"Trunks?" Goten's voice was clearly distinguishable to his best friend.

"Yeah?"

"I need to talk to you about something…I just thought I'd warn you that—"

~*

Pan shuffled around under her covers. Bright morning sunlight shone in through her window, warming her face and blue feather blanket. Her body was slowly waking up, however her mind didn't want to do so. She reluctantly drew her covers down from under her chin and yawned, stretching and arm around her face.

She could hear birds chirping out her window—spring was finally present—and she slung her feet over the side of her bed and slipped out from under the covers. Today was a big day, though with each second she regretted all the plans. Bura, late last night, had told her it was too late; there was no way to re-plan and warn Donny.

She sighed as she grabbed a towel from her drawer and some clean clothes, then trotted to the bathroom for a shower. She had already slept in dreadfully late—thanks to the pay-per-view channel starting a movie at 12:35 in the morning that she refused, due to paying, to not finish all the way. Fifteen minutes later she entered her room with curling, wet hair dripping onto her shoulders, and a shiny reflection. She decided to throw her hair up into a rubber band and went downstairs for some lunch.

"Hey, mom." She greeted, opening the fridge and retrieving some juice. Videl smiled from her book—one of those mysteries she loved to check out. This time, though, she hadn't guessed the ending in the first chapter.

"I'm going to the store in a minute." She said by way of an invitation. "Do you want to come?" She resorted to when Pan didn't answer. Pan gulped another mouthful and then stowed the jug away.

"I guess so…yeah, sure."

~*

Pan stepped out of her house and shut the door behind her at 5:46pm. She had inch high, strappy sandals on her feet, and a light chocolate colored dress. Her dress was full skirted, just below her knee, with a strapless top and a white ribbon with a small bow around her waist.

She had her hair curled lightly around her face, with chocolate brown eyeliner, thickly done eyelashes, and a baby pink pout. Her heels clicked on the sidewalk of her home as she walked to her car—they weren't functional for the plan, but she thought sneakers would look suspicious.

She slid into her car seat and turned the key, the tires making a slight crunching noise on the pavement as she backed out and left for the city.

~*

Trunks tapped the top of his desk absentmindedly, waiting for Pan's "call". What was she thinking? He was glad Goten had called and told him beforehand; now he could teach Panny a lesson.

She'll sure feel silly when she called for help and he didn't show up, not to mention when he…

~*

Pan impatiently tapped her fingers against the steering wheel and looked at the light that still hadn't turned. She was supposed to meet Donny at fifteen after, and she was running late. Her only hope was that Donny would be late, just a bit, himself or that he'd wait, watching for her or something.

The light finally turned green, and she slammed her foot on the gas pedal.

At 6:22 she pulled into the parking lot near the bus stop and leapt out of her car, jogging to her spot and shoving her hand out behind her to push the lock button on her keypad.

She skidded to a stop at the bus stop terminal—nothing more than a bench shielded on three sides by plastic walls. She looked around. There was no sign of Donny, no sign of a human soul at all, and she sighed in relief. Either he was late, or he had waited for her.

She adjusted her skirt, which had slid to the side, and brushed a hand through her hair, steadying her breathing from the two-block run from the parking lot. Her keen onyx eyes scanned around her, and she jumped at the sight of a beat up van turning the corner. The dark gray color was fading and chipping, there were no windows on the sides or the back, and she was reminded of the stereotype "kidnapper van".

She tossed her curls over one shoulder, adjusted her purse, and slid her fingers around her cell phone, ready to dial the button for speed-dial to Trunks' office. She had it on the ready, waiting for the **_send_** button to be pushed.

The van slowed and came to a stop in front of her, and she smiled at Donny who was in the driver's seat. He had brought a friend for the action, apparently, and both had dressed themselves up quite well for the plan.

He wore a ripped up baseball cap and large aviator glasses, and his friend, apparently, had gone for the more laid-back approach with steely, secret agent glasses that reminded her of a computer-based action movie she had seen a bit back.

"Hey there." She greeted with a smile. The driver lifted his brow and smirked, and the passenger smacked once on his gum and jerked his chin in a nod. Pan rolled her eyes; Donny and his friend were just _too much_ getting so into this roleplay.

The passenger opened the door and she took a step back to accommodate, and he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her close as he walked her around to the back of the car.

"I think you might want to come with us." His slippery voice hissed in her ear, and she rolled her eyes. "The accommodations here in the back are quite comfortable…" He jerked the back door of the van open to reveal dingy and damp surroundings. 

He snorted, finishing his sentence, and thrust her inside, slamming the door behind her.

"Donny!" She yelled, pounding on the back of the driver's seat. "Donny, this isn't funny anymore! No one said you had to be such a creep during the stunt—"

"What's the chick calling me Donny for?" The driver asked the passenger, and Pan's stomach dropped. It wasn't Donny's voice. It wasn't even close. She dived as far back as she could in the van and jerked her hand up with her cell phone just as the passenger was making his way in the back with her.

~*


	8. Aiko Takahachi and Jace Winthrow

And here I am, back with another chapter! Short space of time between chapter postings, eh? I really should be working on my other fics, since I so recently updated this one, however, smack, I got inspiration to write and wrote it. Then didn't save it. +what a dope – long, sad story+ So I had to re-write it and I'm pretty pleased, although disappointed. +the original was grand, though maybe that's probably just my opinion since I was in such a writing mood when I wrote it+ Anywayz, hope you like this chapter, the plot twist, and the two new characters. +I'm on LOVE with Jace Winthrow. Hehe.+ Oh, for Aiko Takahachi, no real inspiration except this lady that came into work with a cute haircut, and her personality just came right after. Jace Winthrow, his inspiration is kind of Ken, from Weiss Kreuz's personality along with the look of Kira from Angel Sanctuary. (I love those shows!) Though I like Aya a tad more than Ken – look at my email – I still think he's adorable, and Kira from AS is just so darn steamy and sexy. Hehe. I'm rambling about my psychotic thing for Anime guys now, so later.

Pan slithered further and further back towards the door of the van, her fingers ripping across the keys as she hissed a jerky curse through her teeth.

The little icon turned to a phone ringing, and she put the cell to her ear as she struck a good swift kick to her kidnapper.

~*

Trunks sighed and looked at his watch. She was ten or so minutes late, and for a brief moment he thought maybe she had changed her plans, but his phone rang and the caller ID sprung to flash Pan's name and cell phone number across the screen.

With a wearisome sigh he picked it up, trying to remember his lines.

~*

"Trunks?" Her heart leapt. "Trunks—Trunks, help! There's—" There was a thud—she had kicked him again—and some rustling which he heard on the other line. "Trunks, someone's kidnapped me—"

"Panny? Panny, I can't hear you—"

"Trunks! Trunks, I'm here!"

"Pan, I can't hear you—something about a kitten you want? Go ahead and get it if you want—"

"Trunks, it's a big gray van—"

"It's a gray kitten? Yeah, I'm sure it's cute—just get it, OK?"

"No! Trunks, help—Trunks help!"

"I've got to go to a meeting, honey, make sure to bring the kitten over later—"

"Trunks!" She gasped, her legs kicking and shoving her kidnapper away—he seemed quite baffled at her strength—as she grasped the phone harder as if it would help.

"Love you, Panny—"

"Trunks—" She heard a distinct sound, one that made her blood chill, and she looked up at a pistol's barrel.

She heard him hang up the phone, and she could have let herself throw up. Against almost anything she was invincible, but she couldn't stop a gunshot from hurting her. Maybe Trunks, Goku, they couldn't be intimidated, but—she hated to admit it—she wasn't that skilled.

He smirked, confidently, and she let the phone clatter to the floor, beeping.

"So," He chuckled. "You're Pan Son aren't you? Fiancée of Trunks Brief's?" She gulped. Along with setting up this whole thing, she had made another drastic mistake.

Thing's would've been better if they thought some random guy loved her, but being loved by one of the most known, most respected, most famous—richest guys around…that was something that had made their day.

~*

Trunks sat down the phone and ran a finger through his hair. Boy, she had been realistic. He had almost been to the point of rushing to save her she sounded so desperate. But no, Panny needed to learn her lesson here.

He scanned his desk for some work to be done and jumped at the chance for once. However, no matter what work he did he kept thinking about her, this feeling in his gut something was wrong would plague him, and he'd have to shake it off.

~*

They were slowing down, pulling into somewhere, and Pan looked around, though there was nothing to be seen.

They had bound her wrists, yet left her ankles untouched, hinting she'd probably have to walk somewhere, which was reassuring. During their ride—which was surprisingly short—she had devised a plan, although a pretty simple one.

As soon as they let their gun-guard down, she'd strike—hopefully kicking the gun from them, which would pretty much set the remaining events. She _wasn't_ useless when a gun wasn't being pointed at her.

The car came to a stop and they both got out, walking around the back to the doors—here was her chance.

~*

Trunks got a phone call after a while, but it was very different from Pan's. Donny's voice was on the other end when he asked for Trunks, which the young, lavender haired boy found interesting, if not confusing.

"Hey, Trunks. Pan there?" Trunks shook his head. This was a cheesy way to call her MIA to his attention, he thought.

"No, Donny, she isn't." He tried to sound as casual as possible. There was silence on the other end for a moment.

"Is she home?" He then asked, to which Trunks responded with a no. "Do you know where she is?" Donny sounded perplexed, and Trunks rolled his eyes; didn't this guy give up and ask something else?

"No, I don't know." He said somewhat testily, and Donny sighed on the other end. "What did you need?" He then prodded.

"Well, I just wanted to talk to Pan, but could you give her a message?" He asked, and Trunks agreed he would. "Just tell her I couldn't make it today, and I'm really sorry. I just want her to know I didn't flake, that something important came up and—"

"You couldn't make it to what?" Trunks asked.

"You know, they're little 'plan'." He chuckled. "Bura'll have my head for not being able to make it today, so you better warn her—or hint—that I'm coming over with something special tonight, OK?"

Trunks hung up.

It'd been real.

~*

The time it took for Trunks to get downstairs would have had to been checked with a stopwatch. Rolled up sleeves and a loosened tie and neck proved how much he cared about his appearance at the moment.

It was quite possible he had made speed streaks down the halls and stairs as he raced to—to wherever Pan was and needed to be rescued. He felt like such a jerk, and cussed himself out as he made his way to the lobby—though that wasn't very long, and indeed not long enough to give him the cursing he felt he deserved.

He felt ultra sick though, when someone very special—the damsel in distress herself—walked in the front door, looking disheveled, scratched a bit, with a broken heel.

"Panny!" He yanked her into his arms and held her so tight he was scared she might break, but still he couldn't loosen his hold. "Oh, Panny…" He sighed, nuzzling his face into the curve of her neck and smelling her perfume, the scent of her hair.

"You found out, didn't you?" She snuffled, and he nodded. "I…was…so stupid!" She exclaimed, tears spilling onto his blue shirt. He hadn't even _thought_ of taking a jacket.

"It's OK…" He crooned, sinking into a nearby couch and pulling her onto his lap. Her face hadn't come off of his shoulder since their embrace. "It's OK, Panny." He smoothed her hair.

"You sure took care of yourself, though, didn't you?" He chuckled, and a smile crept across her face.

~*

Two weeks later the events of the kidnapping had passed on its glory as a topic of conversation and new things had sprung up. The plans for the wedding were pretty much set—a bayside wedding, of course—and things had taken a lazy turn.

Pan's father had asked her to do some research on a nuclear physics project he was working on, and, with nothing better to do with her afternoon, she had skipped to the city library to look some things up.

She bit her lip in an intimidated manner as she scanned down a row of musty books, and scrunched her brows in an attempt to find anything remotely connected to what she was looking for.

She hated asking people for help, especially old librarians who only looked at her and blinked as if that would help make her go away. She reluctantly trotted down the stairs and approached the librarian, only to be directed to a university library several blocks away.

~*

Trunks looked up and down the street, glancing at his watch, leaning against the wall, his arms folded. Conner Degraid, a close friend and business associate, was late. They were meeting for lunch in a small luncheon café down an old downtown district.

It was fourteen after one when Conner's Pegasus rolled down the street and pulled into a spot right in front of Trunks. A tall young man with a build about Trunks' size got out, slinging his keys and a cell phone into his pocket.

"Sorry I'm late," He explained when Trunks nodded a hello. "Something came up last minute and I had to look it over before I came." He cracked his neck to the side as they walked into the café, and a quaint little bell dinging as the door slid shut.

A girl, about nineteen or so, appeared behind the counter. She had brown hair with honey highlights, and her hair was cut in a boy-style bob that had pieces falling, bang-like on her forehead and over her eyes.

"Hi." She greeted cheerfully when they approached, and she pulled out a check tablet and a pen. "Do you know what you want?" She perked a brow curiously.

Conner's cell phone started beeping out a tune, and he picked it up.

"Yeah? Just a second—" He turned to Trunks. "A #1 with pesto mayo and a large coke." Then he turned back to his cell, walking away from the counter and taking a seat. Trunks smiled at the cashier when she told him she had caught his order.

"And I," He began, then reconsidered. "will be asking you what you thinks good." She smiled, then turned halfway to the menu.

"I personally like the arturkmozz." She chuckled. "It stands for artichoke turkey mozzarella." He shared her smile. "It's way good." He nodded. "Something to drink?" She inquired, and he glanced at the soda menu. "Dr. Pepper?" She smirked slightly.

"Hey—how'd you?"

"Lucky guess." She had a wink in her eye even though she didn't actually, and he slid his wallet out of his pocket and passed her some money. "$8.22's your change," She passed him the receipt. "thank you." He found himself merely standing there before he gave a little jump and went over to the table with Conner.

Conner turned his cell phone off as he sat down, and looked at Trunks with a wince.

"Do you hate me?" He asked delicately.

"Not yet."

"Something came up at the office, the decisions I made just before I came backfired cause I didn't really think about them."

"Go ahead." Trunks offered, expressionless. Conner hitched a brow. "No, seriously, I know what it's like. Seriously, go ahead, I'll just stay and eat."

"You hate me." Trunks chuckled.

"Of course I don't. Now go." He jerked his head towards the door and Conner got up and clapped him on the shoulder.

"See you around—and thanks." Trunks smiled, wordlessly expressing he didn't need the thanks, and Conner trotted out the door and hopped into his Pegasus.

A girl with long, wavy blonde hair approached with their food and set them down with a demure smile. Trunks bit into his grilled sandwich when the girl who had waited on him at the counter walked by, slinging her coat on and putting some money into a pocket.

"Your friend had to leave?" She asked, stopping and looking at him. Trunks nodded and she sighed. "I'm sorry—isn't too fun to eat alone is it?" She offered a sympathetic smile, and before he knew it Trunks had blurted out an invitation for her to join him.

"I can't eat both of these by myself." He lied, because of course he could, and easily to boot. She seemed to consider. "Miss?" He questioned, holding out his hand, and she approached with a smile.

"Miss Takahachi." She accepted the handshake. "And no need to offer your name; I already know it."

~*

Pan approached the massive wooden double doors of the university library and was instantly reminded of the university she had attended in London, however the difference was that the halls of London were truly old, and this building was made in an old style.

Her navy blue converse sneakers squeaked on the tile floor as she walked the length of the entrance foyer, and was amazed at the sight of a massive main hall. Shelves of books so high she had to tilt her head completely back, rows and rows so long they were intimidating. The second story was merely an indoor balcony with more shelves of books, tables, desks, and discussion rooms.

She approached the front desk and instead of seeing a hook-nosed lady in her sixties she was greeted by a college-age guy about 5'11", with black hair, and large, thin glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

He had dirtwashed jeans and a blue and white striped shirt with the collar undone and the sleeves rolled up. His hair hit about chin length, with jagged layers, and the ends had a razor-cut look to them as he stood there, all the fingers save his thumb and pointer finger slung into his left pocket, his weight leant on his left leg.

"Can I help you?" He asked, and she blinked, forgetting what she needed, and forgetting where she was for that matter—this guy was the handsomest she'd seen in a while.

"Nuclear Physics?" She stated simply, forgetting, conveniently, the exact topic of Nuclear Physics her father was researching. He smiled, and his face lit up brilliantly with that somewhat smirking smile. His whole aura changed even though his teeth weren't model straight or white, and she caught herself smiling as he pointed to the left, tilting his head to the side as he did so.

"Go down that row, take a right at the end, go to the end of that row, take a left, and it will be on your left." He smiled again, or more to the truth smiled bigger, and she nodded appreciatively as she walked away, pulling the piece of paper her father had given her out of her back pocket on her way.

She scanned the bookshelves warily and started at the sound of her name.

"Miss Son?" She turned to see the guy from the front desk approaching her, his hand holding out something. "You dropped this when you walked away." It was her driver's license.

"Oh, thank you. Thank you very much." She took it and that amazing smile flashed briefly.

"Could I help you find something, maybe?" She cocked a brow. "I'm a Nuclear Physics major, and I might be of some help if you'd like." He explained, and she grinned.

"Wow." She said in an impressed tone. "You don't come across many of those, do you?" He twitched a smile, putting a hand in his pocket. "Yes, I'd really appreciate some help." She agreed and leant to show him the notes her father had given her.

~*

Aiko Takahachi and Trunks laughed over their sixth refill of Dr. Pepper two hours later. She cleared her throat, took a sip of her soda, and shook her head.

"I haven't laughed this hard in a long time." She mused, and he agreed. "And what have we learned?" She turned to him. "We've sat here for two hours and don't know much more than when we started." He chuckled with her.

"But I learned you play the Violin," He countered.

"And I learned there's more to Mr. Trunks Brief's than that face everyone sees on the TV screen, talking about his latest venture at a press conference." He saluted her with his cup.

"I heard there are a lot of violin and orchestra concerts around here—"

"Yeah, there are! Have you ever been?" He shook his head. "Oh, you should go, it's so amazing." She widened her caramel brown eyes for emphasis, and her slightly arched brows perked. "Oh, I've got to get going." She said, looking at her watch. "Thanks for everything!" She exclaimed, grabbing her coat and slinging it around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I had a great time! Thank for hanging around for lunch, Miss—"

"Aiko." She said firmly. "My name's Aiko." She smiled. Her hand touched the door but she turned around to look at him curiously. "Hey, there's a violin concert tonight in the garden, a special guest from out of the country—she's wonderful. If you'd like to come—"

"Sure." He said casually. "It'd be nice to have someone who plays there with me." Her eyes twinkled.

"Fifteen to eight? At the entrance?" He nodded. "See you later then!" She slipped out the door and dashed down the street.

And Trunks hadn't even realized what he'd done.

~*

Jace Winthrow and Pan Son giggled and were 'sushed' by yet another librarian. She held a hand to her mouth and he held a finger to his lips as they turned pages around and attempted to look like they were doing something useful.

"I don't think we're getting much work done." Pan whispered, shaking her head, and he closed his book and adjusted his glasses.

"You're definitely right. How about we drop it for now?" He suggested, and she agreed. "Do you want to just let me check these out for you?" She blinked, then her eyes widened.

"Oh, you don't have to—" He chuckled.

"You don't have a library card." She blushed a little and started gathering her things. "Hey, I don't think I'll have a chance for a while—I've been sitting around getting paid for nothing—" She looked apologetic, but he chuckled. "I can bring them by after my shift, if you'd like." He looked at her, gauging her response, her feeling behind her answer.

"Yeah, that'd work—I live outside the city, is that OK?" He nodded, and she retrieved the paper her father had written notes on and turned it upside down, holding out her hand to take the pen he had.

After writing down directions to her house she stood up and tilted her head to the side.

"I appreciate your help so much." She said sincerely.

"I could help you some more tonight as well, if you'd think it'd help. We were swimming pretty bad at the end, and I'm happy to help you."

"You're too nice!" She grabbed his arm briefly and gave it a squeeze. "Do you feel that bad for me?" She teased, and his expression changed to one of defense. 

"Not at all! It's just…I like being around you." For Pan everything stopped for a brief moment before the world righted itself, and she merely smiled, at a loss of words.

"I'll see you later?" She smiled once more and managed a little nod. "OK, bye Pan." He turned without another word and it took Pan several moments before she began her trek home.


	9. Double Betrayal

Ah! Another chapter! Sorry if the last was a little bit of a cliffhanger, my apologies…but this one's a real cliffhanger, and I must admit I feel a tad bit bad giving you this and then going on a trip. +sigh+ Again, my apologies. I really need to get cracking on my other stories. I feel bad, lately ALL my inspiration had been for this story, and I've been neglecting my other works. Anywho, enjoy the MAJOR plot twist. +evil laugh+

__

There isn't a truer fact that reviews lead to inspiration and inspiration leads to updates. (lol.)

—A quote I swapped and messed with to my own purposes. Next time I'll give you the real quote…if you're good.

Trunks leant against the lattice work taken over by climbing roses near the entrance, waiting for Aiko. Candles were lit everywhere to enhance the eclectic ambiance that wreaked all over the place and sneaked into the corners.

It was a gypsy violinist, something he didn't expect with Aiko's classical violin taste, accompanied by a spanish guitarist, and he had to admit he was a little excited, like a kid about to be unleashed at a theme park. Why was he so excited about something he'd never seen or even heard of for that matter before today?

He had nice black slacks and a dark blue shirt on with the sleeves rolled up and the first button undone, revealing—not to his purpose—the first lines of his pectorals. His feet shod in black boots, and his bomber jacket—did he ever part with it?—was slung over one arm.

A glance at his watch let him know he was early, and he shuffled his shoulders, getting more comfortable.

~*

Pan finished buttoning her palest brown shirt, and straightened her quilt block skirt bearing squares of green, red, but mostly black, that fell a little below halfway up her thigh.

She brushed a finger through her hair that was pulled back halfway and done in a pulled through braid, and adjusted her brown chandelier earrings and necklace. It was 6:52, just about when he'd arrive, and she skipped out of her room and down the steps barefooted.

Her mother was finishing the dishes when she popped in and scrounged around for some munchies for the study session, and Videl wiped her hands dry with a terry cloth towel.

"Going somewhere?" Pan shook her head, reaching back into a cabinet. "Oh?" Pan, frustrated slightly by not bieng able to reach, hoisted herself in the air to aid her cause.

"Staying in. Someone's coming over. Today at the library I met someone who's majoring in Nuclear Science—" Videl looked impressed. "—so I'm getting some study help tonight." Videl smiled and shook her head.

"Your father probably knows more than any college pip squeak, Pan." She mentioned, and Pan had to agree.

"I know, but then it's daddy, isn't it, not Jace? Besides, we had a blast today at the library." Videl stopped on a dime.

"Jace?" Pan, arms full of snacks, turned to her mom.

"Yeah, Jace Winthrow. He works at the library—"

"He?" Pan nodded. "Panny, I don't think that's a good idea—"

"Why not?" She returned incredulously.

"You're engaged Pan, and it sounds more like a study date to me than anything else—"

"You just found out about it. How do you know it sounds like a _date_?" Videl rubbed her forehead with her pointer and middle finger.

"You don't dress up for some random girl, especially one who majors in Nuclear Science." Her mother finished with emphasis. Pan hadn't thought about that. She had just gotten dressed, realizing someone she wanted to impress—

Pan didn't let herself finish that thought, it betrayed her point, and instead she stuck to quarreling with her mother verbally.

"Mom, come on—" But Videl merely shook her head and held up a hand.

"OK, fine, make your own decision—I won't fight you over it now." And she left, making Pan feel more frustrated than if she had fought some more.

~*

"Trunks." Aiko, looking amazing in a short blue chinese style dress, approached Trunks with a smile lined by glossy lips. She was cheery, with a matching blue, chinese take-out shaped purse, and she grabbed his arm and planted a quick peck on his cheek that sent a jolt to his gut that was clearly the realization of disloyalty.

But this was just a night where two people enjoyed a shared interest, a night where an expert and a newbie came together to further the newbie's appreciation of the expert's art, right? It wasn't a date, right? So why was he so worked up about a little peck? _Bura_ gave him more significant kisses than _that_.

Their seats, AC and AD, were front row, and he heard, from backstage, if that's what you called it at an outside theater, the musicians tuning their instruments.

Aiko looked about to burst with pleasure, and the excitement that he had only increased as the musicians approached the stage minutes later. Aiko gave his arm a squeeze as the lights dimmed, and suddenly the glow around the stage was red as the violinist pranced onto the stage in a decidedly gypsy-esque black outfit.

~*

Pan, seething at the thought that her mother, though now silently, disapproved of her evening, had to stifle it quickly when the doorbell rang. Dumping her armfull of eats on the kitchen table, she gave herself a last adjusting of everything—why was she so worried about her appearance—before opening the door and admitting Jace Winthrow through the threshold.

"Hey, Jace." She greeted cheerfully, and he responded with a smile and a quick nod. "Come on in." She opened the door wider and shut it behind him. "You can go ahead upstairs, my room's the first on the left, and I'll bring up some stuff to—er—munch on." She gestured offhandedly to the stairs and he trotted up as she ducked into the kitchen.

Why was her stomach queasy? Why did she have this feeling of, of…something reminiscent of butterflies? Trunks was the only person who could make her feel this way…wasn't he?

But here Jace was, dressed in jeans and a cable sweater, wearing those glorious glasses, his delicious hair falling onto his forehead and over his eyes, bookbag slung over one shoulder, that quiet persona, that breathtaking smile—why, darn it, was she breathing so hard? Why—blast it—was her heart beating out of her chest?

Before she had another moment to think she stifled it by picking up the assorted bags, boxes, and juice cartons and dashing up the stairs.

~*

The intermission to the performance was led on by a massive attack of applause. Trunks wondered why he had never caught on to such entertainment before. Sure, he was a tough guy, and he liked his sparring more than anything else…but this was really fun, and nothing like he had expected.

"You liked?" He turned to Aiko and nodded enthusiastically. "Avena Lasis is world renowned for her performances. I'm glad you started picking up violin concerts by seeing her first. Um, would you perhaps like to get something to eat afterwards?" She asked in a tone of suggestion, and he looked at his watch.

"Um, maybe another night." He said as nice as he could. "Do you mind?" She didn't even blink at all.

"Not at all, that's fine." She said casually, not to dropping a smile in the least.

~*

"I never realized this stuff is so complicated." Pan whined, leaning back on the floor, palms to her closed eye-lids and forehead. Jace chuckled, one leg bent and an arm resting on it. His sleeves were pushed up, and his other arm braced his body weight against the floor.

"You mean, this easy. Pan, you're picking it up so fast I'm amazed you don't major in it just in your spare time!" He chuckled again, and she pushed her body off the floor so they could get started on some more.

"Enough flattery," She said. "I get enough on my own." She shot him a smirk, and he got up and stretched out his sore body.

"Bathroom?" He questioned, and she gave him directions.

She looked over some of the papers spread out between them on the floor, and suddenly a jolt of recognition hit her. She hadn't talked to Trunks all day. She wasn't one of those girls who had to have their boyfriends around every second, in fact, those type of girls made her want to ship them off to be on Survivor just for her entertainment enjoyment, but it was odd she hadn't heard from him at all today. Usually he called to do something, or talk, or jut check in…but he hadn't all day. She hoped he was OK.

It may be odd, her worrying about the Prince of Saiyan's being OK, but it was a little different that she hadn't even heard his voice at all.

She sighed.

Presidents of major corporations did get busy all the time…so why was she being such a mamsy-pamsy boyfriend needer?

~*

If the applause at the intermission was amazing, the applause at the end of the show was too much for any word to describe. There wasn't a single soul sitting when they walked off stage, and everyone wanted to remain there, as if somehow there'd be more.

It took forever merely to get to Trunks' car, and when he asked her where hers was he had to admit to being relieved she had taken the bus. She agreed to let him drive her home—too late to go home alone on a bus—and when they pulled onto a curb in the old downtown district, he looked at her questioningly.

"I live upstairs from the shop." She said when he didn't say anything, pointing to a quaint store with the word Pumpkinseeds painted on the shop window, just above an array of purses, gift items, cutesy underwear, soaps, and jewelry.

"My friend owns it." She mentioned when he opened her door and helped her out. "Thanks, Trunks, for a really great evening." She looked at him unblinkingly, and with a jolt he was reminded that no one else but Pan had looked that way at him since his birthday—er—celebration the previous year…just before Pan had left for London, taking his heart with her.

She gave him a squeeze on his arm before walking to the doorway and retrieving some keys. She had just set it in the lock before she stopped, turned around, and walked to him swiftly.

In one swift motion she grasped his arms and pressed her lips against his, and though it wasn't passionate, or steamy, a five second kiss—he had counted—was a five second kiss, not to mention when she pulled away, it was only far enough so that she could speak to him.

"Good night, Trunks." She said in a whisper, and then left swiftly through her door without another word.

He sunk into the driver's seat and shakily turned the car on, breathing in and out deeply, just noticing he hadn't taken a breath since her—well, _kiss_.

He was engaged, to Pan—the girl he loved more than anything in the world—and he had just been kissed, and kissed back, he admitted it, by a girl who he had only known since lunch time.

He turned onto the main boulevard and made his way home, his mind spinning and reeling, his thoughts a tangled mass of convictions and questions.

~*

Both agreeing to call it a night, Pan and Jace stood in the doorway saying their goobye's.

"Thanks so much for all your help." Pan, leaning against the doorway, smiled gratefully. "I appreciate it so much—you have no idea." He returned her smile—oh, no, not that smile!—and for several moments neither said a word.

"Goodnight, Pan." He ventured, receiving a goodnight in return, but before he left he slid his hand to her neck and kissed her. For one moment all hell broke loose in her mind before she silenced everything and returned the kiss.

He smelled woodsy, earthy, and while she felt guilty, wrong, it also felt so good to be kissing him, without any restraint on herself, to just be so near to smell him…

He broke away, slowly, and flashed her a small smirk and a nod before leaving…leaving Pan to feel like the worst person in the world.

~*

When Trunks' alarm went off at 8am he punched it so hard it splintered and broke into countless shards, some of which flew across the room and some of which launched themselves at the walls.

Trunks groaned, and, reluctantly, got out of bed. A massive headache, due to staying awake in bed till 3:45 or so, wasn't helping, and his body was feeling the need for more sleep.

He felt so sick he wanted to call in work to announce his absence due to illness, but he felt too bad and decided against it. That company couldn't run without his presence. He made his way to the bathroom and coughed once, decided it was a warning and that it officially made him sick, and rushed to his bedside phone.

"Claire? Yeah—" He inserted a cough. "I'm…_cough_…sick today. Yeah. Don't…_cough_…think I can make it in—_hacking cough_—Yeah. Yeah. Th…_cough_…anks. Bye." He added some more coughing for emphasis before turning the phone off.

He promptly collapsed into bed with a thud.

~*

Pan woke up dreadfully late—12:35—and still had to force herself out of bed. She felt sick and let out a piercing yell to her mother. Videl approached quite hastily, and Pan lied back against her pillows.

"Mom," She groaned. "I feel so sick." Videl felt for a fever and clucked her tongue and nodded.

"Coughing?" Pan nodded. "Throat?" Pan nodded. "Headache?" Pan nodded. "Cold?" Pan nodded. "Cold." Videl announced. "Stay in bed, sweetie, I'll get you some tea and soup, OK?"

Videl, true to her word, returned with a tray of soup, tea, bread, and water. Pan forced herself to halfway sit as her mother set the tray gracefully down on her lap.

"Rest." Pan nodded, beaten and too sick to argue. "Promise me you won't get out of bed while I'm in town, all right?" Pan nodded, not feeling like talking. "Anything I can get you while I'm gone?"

~*

Trunks lie awake in bed, a little electric heater pumping out heat with a rickety _buzz_ the background to his troubled thoughts about the previous evening's events.

How could he let something like that happen? How could he betray Pan, the woman he loves so much, by letting Aiko kiss him?

He wondered what Pan must be doing now. He hadn't heard from her since the night before last. Not worrisome, but a tad bit odd, and though he knew she was OK, he wondered why she hadn't called…but he was just at fault for not calling, especially with what he had spent his evening doing last night.

He felt like the ultimate idiot, that he had never even considered, that going out with Aiko for the evening had never even made him think twice. Why? Why had he been so quick to go? So quick to forget Pan, who was spending her evening in complete trust of him…

She was so good to him.

And now, he didn't believe he deserved it.

With a sigh he picked up the phone.

~*

Pan sighed. It was about four or so, if the light outside could tell her, and she was bored out of her skull. Several magazines lie on her lap: the latest issue of Martial Arts, Martial World, and Hi-Yah!, and some others her mother had brought her with a smile…Bride, Modern Bride, Wedding Styles, Hair Comes the Bride, and Wedding Perfect.

She hadn't even begun to look at the Bridal magazines. Usually—she had to admit—she got excited about Bride magazines, got giddy when she looked through them…but today she didn't even feel like looking over wedding dresses too expensive for her budget (However, Trunks had told her there was no price limit to anything wedding-related she wanted).

She felt like crying, but couldn't place why she felt so distant and disheartened. She blinked back tears and started flipping through a martial arts magazine offhandedly.

She lied back on her pillows, thinking about how stupid she had been, how stupid she was, and how she didn't deserve a guy who was so good to her, so trusting, so ultimately in love with her.

Her mother's words last night, after Jace left, rang in her ears like a bell too close for comfort:

__

"Pan," She had said. "You aren't being fair to Trunks." She had brushed a pair of fingers over her daughter's brow. "And if you don't love him as much as you should, you should consider that marrying him wouldn't be fair to him either. He deserves to be loved just as much by his wife as he loves his wife. He deserves to be loved by you, just as much as he loves you…though," She had smiled. "I find it hard that anyone could love another as much as he loves you."

Could she marry such a man now? Did she deserve to? If she had been so attracted to Jace…did this mean maybe Trunks wasn't the _one_?

How could you be so attracted to someone and marry someone else? How—didn't the _one_ mean that you never looked twice at another guy? Didn't that mean that he would make you so utterly happy, your world so fairy-tale perfect…. Was Trunks not the one?

Trunks loved her so dearly, her mother was right; he deserved so much more than he was getting in return from her.

…Could she marry him now?


	10. Loss and Passions

Another chapter! It's short, I'm sorry, but I couldn't add any more to it; it's too important, and don't worry, I'll try to update ASAP. This chapter made me sad, in fact I'm a little emotional right now thinking about it, to be honest—and corny. Hope you like it, but don't worry, it's not over.

Pan had made up her mind. Pan had always been sensible, always been a thinking sort of person, and once she made up her mind, most usually, it was made up for good.

That being said, she cried harder than she had ever cried all morning. More than when she had overheard Trunks and Conner talking about the bet, and more than the flight to London—yes, she admitted to crying quite a lot during that plane ride.

Her mother checked on her once when she first heard her daughter crying, but after poking her head in, realizing the fact of why her daughter was being an absolute boob, she had left and hadn't come back besides lunch time to give her medicine and some food, and to make sure she was comfortable.

At six o'clock she picked up the phone, and called Capsule Corps.

"Hi, is Trunks there, Bulma?" Her voice was even croakier after crying all morning and afternoon, and she vaguely wondered if Bulma could recognize her. Apparently she did, because she told Pan to hold on a moment, and several minutes later Trunks' voice, croaky as well, picked up.

"Panny?" She bit her lip to stifle another outbreak of sobs at the sound of his voice saying her nickname, and swallowed with determination.

"Trunks, I…are you sick?" She questioned, and she could have sworn he had nodded on the other end.

"Yeah," He commented after a moment. "you are too." He had stated it, not asked it, and she begged to Dende, _"Where will I find another man that knows me so well? Who gets my brain waves like a psychic?"_ But that _was_ it: she knew she never would.

"Hey, um, I need to talk to you," She began, but was interrupted.

"I'll be right over." He said simply, not fanatically, or in a rush, but without even a moment's hesitation.

There was a pregnant pause, an awkward silence where usually "I love you's" were present, but Trunks waited for her; as he had just finished speaking, and Pan sighed silently.

"I'll see you in a moment." She hung up without another word.

~*

Trunks set the phone down, and a sick feeling in his stomach made him want to vomit. He leant his forehead on his fist, pinstriped sheets rumpled around him on the bed, and sat in silence for a moment before he sighed, sadly, and got up to put some clothes on.

~*

Pan had thought, several times, about calling Trunks' cell and canceling the "appointment". She kept feeling sick, waves of nausea would hit her like a sickening caress, and once or twice she thought she would have to sprint to the bathroom.

Why was she feeling this way? She was making the right decision…right?

So when, about half an hour later, she heard Trunks' car pull up, there was a flurry of confusion and chaos inside her mind, a twisting, turning roller coaster, and she felt like bolting out the window and disappearing for a few days into some vast forest.

So when, just moments after that, she heard her mother answer the door, totally unsurprised, she questioned her decision—everything was spinning…no, she was doing what was right.

She heard his footsteps coming up the stairs—such a familiar sound she felt like another bout of tears—but that was nothing compared to the way her body nearly shook in a sob when he opened the door.

His hair was tousled, messy, he was tousled, messy, in a half and half of regular clothes and pajama's. He looked like the devil, obviously sick, obviously tired…she just wanted to hold him, he looked so sick and helpless.

He was Trunks. The Trunks she had grown to love, the Trunks who hadn't waited a moment before coming to her at the tiniest of beckonings.

She smiled, at least in her heart she did, and he tilted his head to the side.

"Hi." It was only one word, and a two letter on at that, but he knew; she could tell. It was no surprise to him. How could she have doubted that, when he knew her better than she knew herself?

"Sit down." She patted the bed next to her, and he slouched down where she had indicated as she pulled her knees up and hugged them. She looked at him, and sighed, and his cerulean eyes didn't stray from her face, though they took in everything. The tiniest, thoughtful smirk she had, the way she leant her head sideways in her knee, the slow blink, the piece of hair that fell over her brow and hung in her eyes, the way she was looking at him now, taking in everything, loving everything about him, and yet…

"I'm sorry—" Her face crinkled, just enough, and she blinked at tears that fell anyway, though slowly. He leant his forehead to hers, then lifted it briefly to turn his face to the side.

"I am too." His finger traced her cheek before her took her in his arms and leant back on the pillows.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" She threw her face into the curve of his neck and her body shook with quiet sobs, but he merely sushed her, quietly calming her down, silently comforting her.

For many minutes, he merely ran his fingers through her hair, or sighed softly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, and she basked in _him_, this physical and spiritual him she had come to know…and love—

…and lose.

"What is she like?" She asked softly after what had seemed like an eternity, when she realized she could stay suspended in this moment forever and be content. She had known, from the very moment he walked in the door, that they had been caught in a double betrayal. She felt, rather than heard, him sigh, and she waited for his words.

"She…" He began. "plays the violin. She…works at a luncheon restaurant in the old downtown area…and, Panny,"—oh, how that word made her ache!—"I don't know much about her." He admitted. "And him?"

"Nuclear Science." She found herself smiling at the humor in the situation. She could also sense Trunks' confused surprise. "He's a Nuclear Science major at the university. I met him at the library, when my father sent me on a research errand. I met him the day before yesterday." She confided, and she could sense a smile.

"How ironic." He said. "I met Aiko that same day. That's her name, by the way."

"Jace." She said simply, but he understood. "Jace Winthrow." 

"Aiko Takahachi." The room gave way to silence for several moments before he spoke again. "I was going to call you last night. But…I couldn't. I couldn't—"

"Hurt me?" She offered, and he nodded reluctantly.

"No, not like that, not just through a phone call. Pan, I—"

"Don't say it." She said firmly, sadly.

He twisted around to have an arm on each side of her, and traced her jaw.

"But I do." He brought his face closer to hers. "Oh, I do, Panny." He leant his forehead to hers, and her breath became shallow.

"Have any of our parents, any of the parents we know, had doubts about the person they were marrying?"

"Maybe my dad had some doubts…" He mused with a touch of humor, and she shook her head.

"Did they, Trunks?" She demanded. He closed his eyes for a moment in defeat, and she looked at him. "Maybe we should—just for a while—"

"I know." Though a decision was made, one he had agreed on, his mouth snuck closer to hers, his warm lips greeting hers in a kiss that was familiar and welcomed. Her hands stretched to the sides of his neck as his tongue crept into her mouth, and she took in a sharp breath but didn't protest.

She didn't want the kiss to stop when he pulled away slowly, but it was a selfish desire that she pushed away.

His lips caressed her jaw and neck in barely-there kisses until he rested his head in her shoulder.

"It would be unfair of me to ask you not to go," She said. He turned and leant on his back beside her, pulling her close.

"It would be unfair of me to ask to stay…" He held her close until her breath became deep and even, until he knew she was deep in sleep, and then he crept out of her room and out of her house.

~*

Pan had woken up with the knowledge that Trunks had stayed with her until she had drifted into sleep, and when she looked around, expecting, for some reason, to see him, she was disappointed.

Now, an hour or so later she undressed herself in the bathroom. She brushed her hair out while the water made its steady climb in heat, and she began slipping off any jewelry she had on.

Her body gave a slight jump, more like someone had grasped her behind the navel and pulled, when she came to her left hand and saw the single ring on it, simple yet distinct.

She set down on the toilet and held her fingers splay out, wriggling them gently. The stone caught the light and dazzled against the wall across her, and she took a deep breath.

She slid it off her finger and set it on the edge of the sink before getting in the shower.

~*

For several days Pan drifted. She felt lazy, unproductive, as she spent her mornings, afternoon's, and evening's doing nothing in particular or doing whatever seemed interesting at the moment.

She seemed to mope around, and it depressed her that she was depressed. It was an endless cycle of time that was meaningless. Her life had taken a drastic turn off onto another road…but she didn't know where that road led. Didn't know what would become of her life. Didn't know what she wanted to do with it.

And then, one day, whilst checking her horoscope that had never, in her life, been correct, that she realized what she'd do next. She voiced her plans to her mother one rainy night when they were munching on ice-cream. (She had also noticed to her distate that while she had been moping around that she had put on three pounds)

"I'm going back to England." She said after a few moments of silence, and Videl looked at her, though not with surprise. She didn't answer though, and Pan shot her a raised brow, urging a response.

"I knew you'd want to." Videl then said, and Pan looked at her curiously. "But Pan, what is there?"

"The rest of school."

"What do you want to do with it?"

"I want to teach."

"Pan, don't throw your life into a direction simply because you feel you lack one." Pan opened her mouth to defend herself, but her mother cut her off. "When did you decide you wanted to teach? Last night? Today? When have you ever thought of it before?"

"You'd advise me not to follow a passion?"

"Where is the passion, Pan?" Her mother argued. "A passion is something you've had for more than two days. A passion is something you've wanted to do for a long time, or at least more than a week. Just because you feel—"

"I get it, OK?" She snapped, and Videl shook her head.

"No, you don't, Pan. Right now, you want to escape what's happening. You feel like there's nothing of meaning ahead of you, nothing to really go on for, like you're life is now a waste." Pan clenched her teeth. It was exactly how she felt, and she didn't want to admit it.

"Pan," Her mother continued. "I won't stop you from going to London, but…don't go because you feel you have to be doing _something_."

Pan stood up and set her dish in the sink before leaving the room and going to her own, and her mother's eyes watched her exit.

Videl sighed.

She didn't want Pan to make a mistake.


	11. Rhonda Steel's Brilliant Plan

Another chapter for my lovely readers. I know you sobbed at the last chappy, but the story doesn't end there, so I hope you've continued on. Kind of a filler chapter—actually, I shouldn't say that, as there's an important something in this chapter. Not really much to comment, but anywayz, here it is. (remember, reviews lead to inspiration! lol. I'm only teasing. Well, not really, but anywayz! On with the story! Oh, and I FINALLY changed my profile bio thing so it's not a mile long. lol.)

Pan called Mary Kate the next morning, and her Irish friend was beyond excited to hear from her.

"What're you doin'?" She asked. "Are'ya gettin' excited fo'the weddin'?" Pan took this opportunity to fill in her friend, trying not to think on it too much.

"Oh, well, see…we broke up, Mary Kate." There was silence on the other end for several moments before Pan could hear her friend's concerned voice.

"Oh, I'm sorr'uh, Pan." Another bout of silence resulted before Pan chose to break the ice and tell her exactly why she called.

"It's OK, there's nothing really to say." She admitted. "I need to get away, Mary Kate." It was apparent that her friend, though silent, understood. "Can I come stay with you guys?"

~*

Two weeks later Pan shuffled her slipper-clad feet to the front door of the apartment, and opened it wide to retrieve the morning paper. But there was another sight to greet her, and she smiled as a long haired kitty trotted up the steps.

Pan frowned at its limp, and knelt down to scoop the gray animal into her arms. Upon entering the house she flopped the mail into the foyer chair and now took possession of it with both of her arms.

It cuddled and purred all the way into her bedroom, where she set it down upon her cushy comforter and nestled next to the bed, on her knees, to examine it.

"You don't look too well, eh?" The cat 'mewed' softly in reply, its big, round, onyx eyes looking intently upon Pan's face, its whiskers twitching as its nose sniffed the air openly and curiously.

"So what can I do to help?" She questioned, taking her thumbs and feeling beneath the skin of the kitten's right front paw. If it could have furrowed its brows she would have sworn it did as it looked down as the examination process, her breath confused as it tried to purr and question her movements both at once.

"Well, there's only one thing to do." She announced. "Fix you up of course!"

~*

That evening Pan sat in the overstuffed leather chair in front of the TV, he legs propped up, a cozy blanket spread over her form. A pillow sat upon her lap, and on top of that was the friendly little gray kitty, nestled in the crook of her arm, its one paw bandaged quite clumsily.

Indeed, the pink bandage was intended for humans, and it made her paw swell to look quite humorous.

"What on earth are you doing?" Katie, the American Pan had found to be quite trustworthy, a true friend, was in the doorway, and she looked at the comic scene with a smile. "Where'd you find the little snot?" She questioned, rubbing the kitten under his chin, and he leaned into it with a kitty smile.

"I found him on the front step this morning—how was work?" Katie shrugged off the question, instead touching the bandaged paw lightly.

"Is it broke?"

"Broken?" Katie rolled her eyes but smiled. "I don't think so. Just lame, like a sprain or something."

"Are you taking it to the vet or something?" Pan shook her head. "Really?" Pan's eyes darted to Katie.

"What do you mean?" She asked nervously, and Katie shrugged. "What?" Pan snapped, and again Katie just shrugged her shoulders.

~*

Pan sighed as she sat down in a stiff lounge chair, the kitten on her lap. Its dark gray eyes scanned the room and looked at the strange sights, and Pan held it a little tighter when a lady with a bird walked by.

"Son?" Pan looked around. "Pan Son?" A woman in one of those button up nurse shirts was standing up behind the reception desk, a clipboard in her hands as she looked around questioningly.

"Oh, that's me!" Pan jumped out of her seat a approached the brunette with a smile, setting the cat down on the desk.

"The cat's name?" She asked Pan cheerfully as she scratched it on the neck. Pan hadn't given her a name yet. Since yesterday morning 'kitty' or 'cat' had done fine. Her eyes darted here and there, and they stopped their search when they raked over a magazine.

"Cosmo." She said simply, hoping the woman wouldn't think Pan had stolen it off the name of the nearest magazine—Cosmopolitan. But that was absurd. Pan's paranoia would only put the two together.

"All right, that room over there—number four." And Pan picked up the kitten and scurried down the hall.

~*

"Cosmo?" Katie asked with a scrunched eyebrow, taking the kitty out of Pan's hands while the darker of the two took off her coat.

"Well, Cosmopolitan wouldn't work very well, now would it?" Katie rolled her eyes but argued no more, taking the cat with her and Pan into the living room.

They both plopped onto the couch side by side, their legs curled beneath them, and Pan made a move for the remote. The TV turned onto the fashion and gossip news station, and instantly a story appeared which made Pan still her hand from changing the channel.

__

Nearly two weeks after the sighting of Trunks Brief's with a young woman at the violin performance at the capitol gardens auditorium—the screen showed a picture of Trunks and a girl with a short haircut sitting in the auditorium—_he was spotted with another young lady. His sister, that is._

Pan saw a shot of Bura and Trunks dashing across the street of the old downtown district, the same swanky area Miss Satina's spa was located, both clad in sunglasses.

__

The upcoming marriage between Bura Brief's and the model Donny Evan's was discovered only last week by a source who was dealing with the plans of Trunks Brief's and Pan Son's wedding.

Pan had avoided the media heyday that had occurred when sources found out the wedding was off, but it seemed she would have to taste a bit of it now, as she was too absorbed in the news article to turn the station.

__

Trunks Brief's massively publicized—she chuckled at the fitting word "massively"—_wedding was called off last week for reason's unknown._ Thank goodness! _However the sighting of Trunks Brief's with a young woman at the violin concert, and Pan Son's sighting with a college student are obviously thought to be part of it._ When had anyone seen her and Jace? Obviously media watched her just as much as Trunks now a day's. But, thankfully, that would probably soon die out.

__

Trunks Brief's, however, has not been seen with the young woman since.

The reporter grinned and it changed to another person with another topic.

__

Has not been seen with her since? Pan thought. That was enough information to get her thinking for hours.

~*

Trunks leaned back in his office chair, staring at the city stories and stories below where he was. Capsule Corps.' office building was the highest in the capitol, and he enjoyed every moment of his office so terribly close to the top of it.

Goten looked over the latest issue of GQ that had Trunks on the cover. In bold, navy blue letters it read just below his chin: _Trunks Brief's. His spot at the top, and the relationship happiness he has found._

Goten sighed and looked at his best friend who shook his head sadly, knowing what Goten had sighed about.

"They want a follow up interview." He stated. "Called the moment the wedding was canceled. Want to put me on the very next issue, talking about 'the loss'." He rolled his eyes. "Said it would be the first time anyone's ever been on GQ twice in a row." He snorted. "Like I care…now."

"They want to know all about Aiko, I presume?" He chuckled. "Miss Aiko Takahachi, and the happiness she shattered. It'd be the perfect story for them."

"Well, there's not much of a story there." Trunks said. "Besides, it wasn't her who shattered the happiness." Goten let the subject drop, knowing the pain it brought up.

~*

Pan picked up the latest issue of GQ sadly, running her fingers over the cover while she waited in the grocery store line.

"Trunks Brief's. His spot at the top, and the relationship happiness he has found." She repeated, almost mockingly. "I'm sure every magazine will pay top dollar for a follow up, especially GQ. They'll want to make sure they're the ones who clear up their mistaking headline." She rolled her eyes. Couldn't anything be private? Especially this?

~*

"I'm sick of it." Bura set down across from her brother at the kitchen table. "I'll be honest, Trunks. I'm sick of stinkin' GQ knowing more about what happened then me."

Trunks looked from his book to his sister. Her eyes held concern, her lips held determination, and her hands cradled a cup of ice-cream. He'd never be able so sway her; she had brought in the big guns.

…

"And after Pan and you broke up? What happened to Aiko?" Her ice-cream bowl was empty and set aside, and his glasses had been set down on the table as well.

"I…I broke it off." She arched a brow. "It wasn't right, Bura. And…I didn't love her. I liked her, yes, but not enough."

"But—"

"That was never why Pan and I called it off." He said, guessing her interruption. "It was because…because…"

"It was because there was a temptation in the first place." He nodded. "Is Aiko still around?"

"No. She went to France. Her parents are there, and there was an instructor there as well that's supposedly unparalleled. The opportunity was too much…and we had already broken up."

Trunks remembered that rainy afternoon he had met her at work to break the news. She had been expecting it, strangely enough, and it hadn't been a shock.

__

They were sitting across from each other, cradling each a cup of coffee or tea, and she gave him a melancholy, though understanding smile.

"I knew." She said. "I knew who you were, your relationship status, and—" She grinned. "the type of guy you were. But it was enough to know I would just spend some time with you. You, Trunks. Trunks Brief's of Capsule Corporations, millionaire extraodinaire." She grinned again, but it faded. "And at least there was the hope. The hope that someday, or some time, you would realize you liked me in that way. Enough to keep things as they were, to hopefully raise things higher. It was a dream from the beginning. I knew the consequences. I knew."

The remembrance of that afternoon faded, and he met Bura in the eye.

~*

Pan got up and got ready for her day. She took a shower, got dressed, brushed her teeth and hair, did everything just as usual. She took a leisurely breakfast, read the newspaper, and snuggled with Cosmo before heading out the door for an afternoon of work and then whatever else greeted her.

She didn't notice, however, that her answering machine had been blinking its red light throughout the morning.

~*

Trunks busily typed on his data pad without a second thought to anything until Claire buzzed in.

"There's a call for you, sir." He turned towards the receiver. "The senior editor and VP of GQ." She replied to his question of who it was.

"Tell them I'm unavailable right now to talk." He could hear her sigh. "What?" He listened hard to her answer. Even though he got irritated some times by her, he heeded her good advice, as she almost always gave the best council.

"You have been skipping them for a while." She pointed out. "And, it probably wouldn't be best to remain with this 'no comment' idea forever. Better to set it out straight in an actual interview with you, than to have tabloids spill out a drama."

The suggestion hit him like a smack. But it was the truth, and she wasn't harsh…sometimes reality hurts.

"OK, connect the call." He waited for the inevitable, and it struck him when the blue light signaled. He tapped the button and the speakerphone kicked in.

"Trunks Brief's here." A smiley, cheery tone greeted him on the other end, making him even more irritated.

"Mr. Brief's! This is Rhonda from GQ, and I was hoping to speak with you about that follow up interview. You realize you'll be the first man in history to snag the cover twice in a row?" A funny laugh sounded on the other end, like she had been laughing and smiling with her teeth clenched at the same time.

"Well, Ms. Steel—"

"See, Mr. Brief's, I have the most brilliant plan." She continued before he could even take a breath. "Have you heard of Infinite magazine?" It did ring a bell… "Well, I'm the president and editor for that magazine as well. I started it just a couple of years back. But enough reminiscing!" Another one of those laughs. "Again, I had the most brilliant idea. I would like to do a cover of you on GQ and…" Here came the turkey, he could tell.

"On the cover of Infinite, I would like to spread Pan Son."


	12. Donna Summer Sparks A Realization

Notice something different? Yes, I changed the story name. The other one suggested a goofy, out of control, humoristic story, and that really wasn't what this story was about. This plot is more serious than it started. I've realized Trunks and Pan's story is going to happen, it's not something I can write. The name's important too. Much more so than A Wedding of Chaotic Proportions. So, hopefully you like the change! And now, to talk about the actual chapter…

Another chapter! This one flew to paper like a windfall. I got the inspiration—boom!—and I wrote it—Boom! Again—and here it is done. (now to get some therapy for my numb butt) Anywayz, hope you like. For some reason I've been writing a lot lately, so hopefully this'll last. I'll at least shoot for another update before the 5th, as I'm going out of town from then till like the 16th-17th. Yup, yup. I'll try to update all my stories at least once before then, okies dokies? Again, interesting little chapter, on the longer side…not really, but compared to my more recent chapters I suppose. Again, hope you like—and I hope everyone had a good Christmas/New Year's!

"It is on New Year's that the things we really need to address are brought up in our minds, making it the perfect time for these _resolutions_."

"A dual interview on twin magazine's! Isn't that wonderful?" Trunks flinched. "I hope this isn't too harsh for you, Mr. Brief's—" He stifled the jolt the idea sent to his stomach, and decided, as Claire had said, that dealing with it would be best. And if Pan agreed, then why not?

"Sure, Ms. Steel. That would be fine." He felt like he had overcome a massive obstacle, and felt the better for it.

"Wonderful, Mr. Brief's! Just wonderful! I even want to cover it personally!"

~*

Pan Son entered her bedroom and let her bag slide off her shoulder and onto the floor. Cosmo sat calmly on her bed, her lame leg just a barely there obstacle since their trip to the vet the day prior.

The cat's eyes seemed transfixed to the blinking red light on Pan's answering machine. Pan approached it and pressed the **_play_** button.

A voice greeted her, fake an overly cheery, asking Pan to give her—Ms. Rhonda Steel—a phonecall. Pan sighed. This wasn't something she wanted to do, but reluctantly she picked up the phone.

"Ms. Steel?" She questioned, and Rhonda's voice got excited. "This is Pan Son, and you gave me a call—"

"Oh, I know. I know, dear. Yes, I'm glad you got back with me. I was hoping to get you to agree to an interview with Infinite magazine."

"Oh, thank you but I'm not really interested—"

"It's quite an interesting interview." She stated, and Pan listened for just a moment. "Infinite magazine is part of the GQ—"

"It's related to GQ?" Pan questioned, remembering Trunk's picture on the cover the other day.

"Yes. I'm the VP and senior editor of GQ and I opened, a few years back, Infinite for female readers." Pan almost whistled. So she was talking to a real big-wig. "I'm hoping you'll agree to an interview for Infinite, as part of a twin issue."

"Twin issue?"

"Yes. Mr. Trunks Brief's has agreed to do this twin issue. He will cover for GQ along with an interview, and I was hoping—"

"I'd cover for Infinite. A twin issue." It sunk in, and Pan didn't know whether to be impressed or disgusted. "The double issue to beat all, right?" She could hear a smile on the other end. "And Trunks—Mr. Brief's has agreed to this? Agreed to the double issue with me?" This was going to be a freak show just about…but it was a good idea, she had to admit it.

"Yes, he has." Pan sighed.

"I'll do it." She said quickly. If Trunks was up for it, if Trunks wasn't scared of it, then neither was she. And at least she could have a word…as she was sure everyone thought the break up was because Trunks had cheated on her.

True, he had, but she had as well…and she couldn't let him take all the flak like he had been. She knew, even though she hadn't watched much news, that he _was_ indeed taking all the flak.

~*

"Are you serious?" This same question was heard by both Pan and Trunks both, on each side of the world. Katie and Goten both exclaimed it at the news, both unbelieving and excited…in some way.

In London, all the girls were gathered in the living room around Pan like a harem. Lynda and Kaye were beyond thrilled, Katie was—American style—flabbergasted, and Mary Kate was hopping up and down, Cosmo on her lap.

"So 'yer really goin'ta do it?" Pan nodded at her.

"I mean, Trunks won't even be anywhere near anyway. That would be a little awkward…"

"Well, I'm proud'a ya'." She gave Pan's leg a little squeeze, giving her room to not say more in front of everyone, and the girls started talking about everything related to the topic. Like what she'd wear to the interview, what she'd say, what the outcome she wanted was…

In the capitol, Goten leaned back on the couch at the Brief's household.

"That's awesome man, I'm glad you're doing it."

"Really?" Trunks wondered aloud. "Do you think it'll be OK?"

"Besides, Pan won't be near, she'll just see the interview…and well, you have nothing to be worried about. I'm proud of you, my man." And he slugged him in the arm.

~*

A week later Pan checked into the luxurious Bentoire hotel in New York with Mary Kate and Cosmo. There she was led into the executive penthouse suite, complete with kitchen, two baths, two bedrooms, and outer walls made of glass so that the skyline of New York was ever present.

The suite was done in the color scheme of pale moss, light peach, cream, and wood. Giving it a very zen-like quality, and both girls were pleased with the lush décor.

"I can't believe," Pan began, taking a long look around the suite. "that they would spend so much on _me_." Her face was set in an expression of awe, and still she looked around, dumb struck, taking in everything.

"Yer'a celebrity now, Pan." Mary Kate said, plopping on the couch with Cosmo on her lap. The sun had just set, so the sky shone deep magenta and darkest purple, and the lights of the city dazzled outside their windows.

"Will that be all Miss Son?" The desk receptionist that had guided them to the suite stood timidly at the open door, and she looked to Pan.

"Oh, yes. Yes, thank you very much." The woman with a periwinkle suit and her blonde hair pulled into a twist, nodded.

"If there is anything you need, just call the reception desk, and we hope to be of service." Pan smiled her thanks, and the woman disappeared.

"What, no maid?" Mary Kate winked.

~*

Trunks and Goten checked into New York's Bentoire hotel, where they were shown to one of the only two executive penthouse suites in the entire building.

Trunks had stayed there before, but for Goten it was a new experience. The receptionist herself, a blonde woman in her late twenties, escorted them to their room wearing a periwinkle suit with the hotels logo on her left breast, and her hair twisted up.

"Mr. Brief's." She said simply, opening the door wide, and taking a step back. Trunks and Goten entered the extravagant suite with only carry-on's; the rest of their luggage had already been sent up while they had checked in. The entire outer wall was made of floor-to-ceiling windows, and Goten gasped at the sight. Night was present in New York, and the skyline glittered with the many skyscrapers lights.

"We sure have it good, don't we?" Goten mentioned after the woman had left with the promise to be available if they needed anything whatsoever. Trunks only smirked at Goten's pleasure as he sat down on the cranberry couch.

The entire suite was made up of rich royal blue, cranberry, raspberry, and deep chocolate and black.

"So what should we do tonight?" Goten mused, and they met each other's stare.

~*

Pan, wearing striped sleep pants and a white tank top, drew her feet up into the couch and started to take the polish off of her toenails. Mary Kate was brushing Cosmo, who purred gratefully, and she was wearing snuggly pink and orange polka dot pajamas.

"It'll be nice ta' just stay home tonight." Mary Kate mused, and Pan groaned in agreement. "Just you an' me sitting around and having to do nothing." She stretched out on her couch and yawned, her chore of brushing Cosmo complete.

~*

Trunks, wearing coal colored dress slacks and a satiny gray shirt, weaved through the mass of hot, loud, and mobile bodies. Goten followed, not quite as daring as he did so, and kept repeating the same thing:

"'Scuse me—sorry—oh, sorry there—coming through—excuse me please—" Trunks rolled his eyes. Goten wasn't really a mainstream, big city guy.

Sure, the capitol was large—massive—but not wreaking of the skyscrapers and abundant night life that was present in New York. It was more of a sprawling, low key, casual city, where New York was metro, hip, and going, going, gone.

Only one look at Trunks had let them into this club where the word _Jive!_ was scrawled above the door in flashing, neon colors like green, red, blue, and purple. Until they had entered the main room, most had taken a step back, clearing the way for the 'celebrity'.

Trunks had almost cleared his way towards some peace and quiet near the bar when his path crossed with someone else's and they collided, and Goten bumped into him from behind as well.

"Excuse me—" Her catlike smile grew into a grin at the realization of who she had just bumped into.

"Hi." Her teeth shone as her smile seemed to show every single on inside of her mouth, and a friend approached her but quickly stifled speech.

Trunks extended his hand.

"Donna Summer." She offered, taking it. "I already know yours." She winked so expertly that it was almost merely a twitch, and for a brief moment her eyes flicked to Goten before looking back to Trunks.

"This is Goten Son." He offered, and she took Goten's hand briefly.

"Kim Anderson." Her friend took each of Trunks' and Goten's hands in turn.

"Goten _Son_, did you say?" Donna Summer cast a meaningful glance to both Goten and then Trunks, and her lips turned up into another brilliant smile. "Well, Kim and I were about to take a seat. Care to join us, gentleman? Not like we'd let you two escape our company tonight anyway."

A while later the four of them were sitting at a steel table with bar height chairs around it. 

Donna wore a red, thirties style halter dress that hit mid-thigh, and her friend Kim wore a spaghetti strap, fifties style turquoise green cocktail dress with a slightly full skirt and a bright pink flower on the left side of the neckline.

"So, is it business that brings you in town, Trunks?" She leaned forward questioningly, a cosmopolitan held timidly in her fingers. He nodded reluctantly, and she raised a brow in question first to him, and then to Goten.

"He's being interviewed, but he wouldn't want to tell you that." She smiled appreciatively, and Kim chuckled a bit.

~*

"Trading Spaces…Speed Buggy…The Re-Awakening of Nefertiti…Bali Nali…and Blue's Clues. Yup, those look like our options." Mary Kate called from Pan's bedroom while the ebony haired of the two brushed her hair in the bathroom.

"Oh, never mind; you can't choose." She heard Pan snort in the next room, and she proceeded to argue her case. "Vern's designing! I love him!" Cosmo sneezed at the foot of the bed, and Mary Kate pulled her up onto her lap and under the covers.

Pan clicked out the light of the bathroom on her way out and jumped under the covers next to her friend and petted Cosmo quickly before adjusting the pillows behind her.

Both friends appreciated the quiet, peaceful night they were enjoying, far away from the hustle and bustle of the New York City night life.

~*

Donna giggled, her back against the armrest of the chair, her legs tossed over the lap of a young man with pale lavender hair. He had just picked her up and sat her down in this position after making their way out of main room to one of the quieter lounge's. This particular one was pretty much a nook half hidden from the world, with a single couch and end table bearing a lamp with only a black light bulb.

"So who's the interview with?" She asked, and he pondered in a joking way, teasing her by trying to decide whether to tell her at all, and she slugged him lightly on the arm. "Seriously, who with?"

"Is it that important?" He returned, and she shook her head in blatant honesty which he laughed at.

"No, it isn't. I'm just curious, and now it's driving me nuts!" She put on a determined face, but it fell when she started chuckling at him.

"GQ." He relented, and she looked impressed.

"Twice in a row? Now that's impressive. Hey, won't you be the first—"

"Person to make it two months in a row?" She nodded, and he admitted it, though without the pride that was due.

"What's it feel like?" He furrowed his brows at her, and she tilted her head to the side, emphasizing the need for an answer. "What's it feel like at the top?"

Lonely.

Why had that word struck him so hard? Why had he almost blurted it out?

"I…" She looked at him thoughtfully, her hair cascading around her face, her arms circled about his neck. "I…haven't known anything different." She nodded, understanding, and it made him feel good to say it.

~*

"What was that?" Pan asked. Mary Kate had gone to answer the door, and now she appeared with a sly grin and a paper bag. She opened the convenience store bag and retrieved two tubs of chick-a-dee ice cream and two plastic spoons. Pan looked both impressed and surprised.

"Room service." Mary Kate grinned, and Pan shook her head.

"You sent a poor bell boy down to the corner of the street to get us ice-cream?" Pan shook her head, but she was smiling nonetheless.

"If you're in the _Executive Penthouse Suite_," She emphasized, striking a haughty pose. "then nothing is beyond your command." The royal persona dropped however when the call of ice cream struck, and both girls decided to dig in.

~*

There was the sound of club music in the background, mingling chatter, and the smell of both incense and spicy perfume—Donna's.

Trunks gave one last pull before breaking his lips from Donna's, and he felt her breath glide across his cheek.

He pulled back, saw her smile, and released a slow one of his own as her eyes studied his thoughtfully, perceptively.

"How could she have…" She said just barely, and he furrowed his brows, questioning what she meant. "How could she have betrayed you like that?" He saw Donna's smile—not as massive and contagious as Pan's—her soft hair—not as full, as wild as Pan's—her eyes—but they didn't sparkle like Pan's, nor reflect his face when he looked into them.

This just wasn't _right_.

"She didn't deserve you—" He shook his head slowly, pulling away, standing up, and she looked at him, confused.

"No." He shook his head again. "No…I didn't deserve her."

~*

"Why are we leaving so soon?" Goten asked, following Trunks out of _Jive!_, jogging to catch up with him.

"It's late." Trunks said casually, waving a cab. "In fact, it's—" He looked at his watch. "Eleven forty-nine." They hopped into the taxi.

"So," Trunks turned to Goten. "how was Kim?" Goten nodded thoughtfully.

"She was a nice girl. She's going to California soon—get this, she's a surfer." Goten grinned. "I hope the best for her."

"So, there wasn't anything else?" Goten caught Trunks' eye, suddenly understanding. He chuckled.

"No, nothing else." He shook his head, turning more serious. "Marron deserves more than that. Kim was a nice girl—but why waste my chances with the best there is for me? I wouldn't risk Marron for a night with a girl I knew wouldn't last. Besides, like I said, she deserves more." Trunks nodded, taking more from that little speech than Goten realized.

~*

Pan cuddled in bed with Cosmo at her feet. Mary Kate was slumbering gently in her own bedroom. Pan looked out at the city, the whole wall a massive window filled with lights, showing her a glimpse of what people were doing beyond her room.

She pondered whether this interview was right. She hoped that they wouldn't twist her words—a huge reason of her doing this was to set the record straight so people wouldn't label Trunks a slimey cheater, and she would do it or die.

She wondered what he was doing right now. Wondered if he had already had his interview, what he had said, or what he would say if he hadn't had it yet. She wished him the best; he still…meant a lot to her.

He always would.

~*

Trunks, as he lie in bed, couldn't shake the feeling that he had betrayed Pan tonight. Though they were officially dissolved for now, though he was, in reality, and in the tabloid and celebrity scene, the most eligible bachelor…he had felt bad about kissing Donna.

He had excused himself, told her he was sorry, told her he enjoyed her company, thanked her for the evening…she hadn't been heartbroken, or hurt, thankfully—he rolled over. His mind was tangled, like a ball of yarn, and it was giving him a migraine.

He wished Pan, wherever she was now, whatever time it was for her right now, that she was good, that she was all right. Ms. Steele had told him that Pan had accepted the interview, and he wondered what her motive was, if there was one at all. He wondered if she had had it yet, if she hadn't, what she was planning to say.

He wished her the best, that she wouldn't have a bad experience with the media. He did still…she was important to him. She always had been. He wouldn't stop caring for her in some way, and he hope that she was doing just fine.


	13. Superman and Lois Lane

Another chapter before the 5th, as promised. :) I was sick last week – bleh – so I'm actually surprised I did get a chapter in before my trip. I'll be gone till the 17th so don't count on a chapter until then, kay? Anywayz, enough about me. The story's moving along, even with unexpected turns none of you are expecting in the least – but I hope that ya'll are liking this story anyway. Excuse my spelling – just in case – in the chapter. I'm actually a pretty good one! Ja ne! 

"Wake up!" Pan was responded to in a grunt. Mary Kate had somehow completed wrapped herself in her blankets and sheets, rolling her body up like a crepe. Pan humphed, sliding an earring in her ear as she walked into Mary Kate's bedroom to give her a good shake.

"I'm not going to be late to my interview because of you." Pan argued, and Mary Kate gave a last stretch before glaring at her onyx-eyed friend. "Come on, Mary Kate—it's eight forty-six." This only gave Mary Kate more reason to groan and moan.

"I'm going down to breakfast. You better meet me in half an hour or I'll leave without you." Mary Kate nodded dispassionately before trudging into the bathroom.

Pan, despite her irritation—she had to admit she wasn't _that_ irritated anyway—smirked. "I'll be eating at the buffet one, OK?" She called, and heard some muffled speaking back. Assuming the best of her reply, she trotted into the living room to grasp her purse before dashing out the door and down the hall.

This would usually be a semi-dramatic, cute little scene of an attractive girl dashing down a hotel corridor in high heels, a small clutch purse dangling from her hand. In a movie standpoint, the camera would catch if perfectly all the way to when the elevators door closed.

Assuming this brilliant shot was being taken, it sweeps down the hall alongside her, but drops suddenly.

With a great thud Pan tripped and slid on the velvety maroon carpet, her face an ungraceful mask of discomfort and sudden bad moods. But without a second thought she lifted herself up, dusted herself off, adjusted her shoes, and was off again in a jiffy.

Meanwhile…

Trunks was shaving his face when a great big thud echoed through the wall and he nicked himself with the razor. He looked questioningly at the wall that separated the bathroom from the hallway, furrowed his brows for a moment, and then got back to shaving.

"Ready for the big day?" Goten questioned excitedly when Mr. Brief's came out of the bathroom. Trunks shrugged it off with a smile before going into the bedroom to change. "What should I wear?" He asked nervously, digging in his bag.

"Try sending out for some clothes!" Goten, confused, didn't respond. "If you call downstairs they'll send some stuff up." An evil grin spread across his face as he pounced on the phone.

~*

Pan entered the dining hall with a white schoolgirl skirt and a pink button up shirt with puffed sleeves and a curved collar. She had a plain pink vinyl clutch purse and pink, trademark New York spiky shoes.

She eyed the massive buffet with excitement, and was already digging into thirds when Mary Kate walked in, a green and white polka dot dress with a green cardigan. The full skirt fell just below her knees, and she had shiny white mary jane's to go with it.

"Someone put themselves together quite nicely in a jiffy." Mary Kate smiled while she sat down. "The food's great—eat as much as you can. I have no idea when we can eat next." Mary Kate chuckled, and Pan shrugged. "Hey, I'm just being realistic."

"No, you're being Pan. The one that eats a ton without caring, and who, depressingly, never shoes those eight ice-cream sundaes she had over the weekend." Mary Kate rolled her eyes dramatically before getting up to dish some grub.

Goten and Trunks trudged down the front stairs and paused at the doorways to the separate dining halls.

"Buffet!" Goten cheered, but just as they were about to enter Trunks froze like a scared rabbit. There was a girl who looked just like Pan. Sure, he could only see the back of her—but he would have sworn it was her.

"What would she be doing in New York?" Goten tried to talk some sense into him, but still Trunks peered at the back of her head. Her long ebony hair. Her slender yet not to scant waist. Hot legs that could only belong to Pan…but Goten was right. She wasn't in New York. Wasn't her interview in London?

"You're right, man." But still he didn't move. "Do you mind if we don't take the buffet?" He asked, and Goten rolled his eyes.

"Sure," He said as they walked into the restaurant. "but I'm still eating as much as I want…and it's on your tab."

~*

The girls hailed a taxi and settled in for the ride to the magazine office. They passed pizza parlors, bars closed for the afternoon, shops, and about twenty Starbucks.

There was a different feel in New York than London. London was sprawling, old, and a little quieter. New York was fast, loud curse words, and tons of business suits in all shapes and sizes.

When they finally reached the magazine building—a skyscraper, as Pan had imagined—they paid the taxi and trotted up the steps and into the front lobby. There was a massive desk that Pan approached to ask for directions, and the girl had to put several people, on various phone machines, on hold.

"Yes?" She asked pleasantly, but in a hurry.

"Oh, I'm Pan Son—"

"Pan Son!" She exclaimed, rushing from behind the desk. "If you would please take that elevator up…" She began pointing and speaking so fast Pan couldn't remember a thing she said. With a forced smile she hope she knew where she was going, and Mary Kate and herself headed towards the elevator.

~*

Trunks and Goten entered the front lobby of the _GQ / Infinite _building, and were greeted by busy phones and even busier people.

Trunks approached the desk, a nervous Goten behind him, and waited for the receptionist to put calls on hold.

"Excuse me—"

"Two famous people back to back!" She swooned, standing up and walking around the desk. Trunks and Goten exchanged looks but did so in silence. "If you would take the elevator…" The rest was a haze, and Trunks hoped he'd be able to figure it out.

"I think she would have escorted us the entire way if there hadn't been headphones on her." Goten joked when they were in the elevator. "What's it like being famous?" He questioned, and Trunks snorted. "I'm serious! You have no idea what it's like not to be. I don't think you could spend one day—in Saudi Arabia!—without getting recognized." Trunks didn't answer, but Goten wasn't expecting a reply, and they continued their ascent to whatever awaited them.

"Miss Son!" A woman with short black hair and a massive chain of pearls around her neck greeted Pan and Mary Kate. "I assume this is your friend Mary Kate?" She gave Mary Kate a large smile before Pan even answered, and ushered them into her office.

"Now, we're going to send you into makeup and wardrobe where they'll get you ready for the shoot. Then we'll depart for the interview." Pan sighed, reminded of the public interview that was going to take place. She had been reluctant, and the only comfort was that Trunks was probably in the capitol at some point giving the public their own public interview.

"I'm thinking pale skin, rosy cheeks, dark eyes." She said offhandedly as they walked into a busy room filled with flashing cameras and conversing people with clipboards. In the next room there were several men and woman with hair dryers, makeup brushes, and one, dishearteningly, with an assortment of tweezers.

At Pan's shocking glance Ms. Steele said, with a catlike smile, "Every single hair must be plucked. The camera picks up even blonde ones unfortunately." And Pan gulped, but thankfully Ms. Steele didn't notice.

"Paris, Nicole—get started immediately." And with a quick promise of meeting up with her later, she disappeared along with a farewell waving Mary Kate.

Paris and Nicole—or so she assumed—then began their work.

~*

Trunks and Goten knocked on Ms. Steele's office door lightly, and she opened it with a splendid smile.

"Mr. Brief's! And this is Mr. Son? Pleasure. Really a pleasure. I hope you don't mind if I hustle you into hair and makeup immediately?" Both looked at each other and before receiving an answer she took Trunks by the hand and led the both of them into a room that flashed so bright they were seeing stars.

Trunks and Goten were jerked to their immediate right and enter a sea blue room bustling with makeup and wardrobe people.

"Tracy, Colista, if you could begin right away. After your shoot, Mr. Brief's, we will leave for the interview site. It's not far, but at a hotel with a suitable conference room for the occasion." And with that she disappeared, tugging Goten with her.

~*

Pan had tried on many different outfits, but finally the perfect one was chosen. It was a pair of sleek, red leather pants, flashy, strappy red sandals, and a red sweater a-shirt tank top.

They had her hair down in very loose, wavy curls, with ruby red lipstick and dark smoky, yet cleanly lined eyes. They had encouraged her to have fun with the shoot, to play around.

So many suggestions were given that her mind was spinning when she finally approached the photo floor. Her heel caught on the raised board as she tried to climb up it, and with a sickening crack her heel snapped clean off.

There was a great, shared cry of, "Hot glue!" before she was whisked away for repairs. Meanwhile Trunks was just putting on the coat of his sleek black suit.

He entered the photo room cautiously, and they herded him onto the floor where camera's began flashing instantly. Several minutes later they said that was satisfactory, and he entered the wardrobe and hair room just as Pan was done with repairs.

They posed her several times, then told her to goof around before they said that that was enough.

Several outfits later both Trunks and Pan were done with the shoot. They had switched on an off the board room the entire time, both oblivious to the others' presence, and now, separately, both dressed in new outfits and makeup checked and in some cases reapplied, they were sent down to the two limo's that would take them to the interview.

Ms. Steele rode with Pan, and first off she inquired of her where Mary Kate was.

"She was sent ahead." She explained. "So that she would get a good seat for the interview. Don't worry, she's fine." And small talk then became the topic.

Trunks was given the same news before he entered the limo, and he rode alone to the hotel.

There were press everywhere when Pan arrived, and she ushered her in just as another limo was pulling up. Trunks, too, was ushered in, and taken to a quiet room full of bottles of bubbly water and bowls of fruit.

Pan sat down in her little room full of courtesy food and waited impatiently for the interview to take place. Thankfully the entire interview would not be done this way, just some general questions and requests for comments so that the public could be involved. More publicity, Ms. Steele had said.

Still she wanted it to be over with, but when Ms. Steele entered and said she was to enter in five, Pan's stomach began to flip and flop, full of butterflies. She snatched a banana, anxious for something to steady it.

It seemed ages since he was told he would be ready in five minutes for Trunks, and he had already, nervously, opened three granola bars without eating any.

And when someone approached with a headphone and clipboard, silently beckoning him, Trunks took a deep breath before going to the door to wait.

Ms. Steele was talking to the press and public, sharing some exciting sentences and fake smile, and Pan thought she would be sick. She was standing in the door arranged on one side of the platform, and she caught Mary Kate's eye.

The Irish girl gave her a sly thumb's up, and Pan was unaware that Goten was giving Trunks something very similar.

"And now, if we could please have the participants enter." She announced. "If you would please now turn your attention to Mr. Trunks Brief's and Miss Pan Son." And she sat down in the middle of the platform table laden with microphones.

Trunks' blood stopped cold, and Pan swayed, her stomach even to sick to dispel its contents. They both walked onto the platform slowly, then their eyes met, and Mary Kate and Goten' eyes grew unbelievably wide.

"Pan," She saw Trunks mouth her name, and her eyes met his warily. "Come one." He mouthed reassuringly, and they both sat down on the opposite sides of Ms. Steele.

Pan couldn't describe why she suddenly was fighting tears. It was as if she were eight and at her birthday party it was revealed she still slept with a stuffed animal. She told herself there was no reason to feel humiliated, and Trunks begged he would say the right things.

"Questions, please." Ms. Steele announced, and people began raising their hands. It was like a wave of arms, and Pan pleaded that they would ask easy questions.

Ms. Steele pointed to someone, and he cleared his voice.

"Was your breakup on unfriendly terms?" The man asked, and Pan was ever so grateful that Trunks answered, for she feared her voice would squeak.

"Not at all." Trunks answered calmly, and now it was woman's turn.

"Was it a mutual decision?" She ventured.

"Yes." Pan nearly jumped at the sound of her own voice, and was surprised at how calm the reply came.

"You seemed quite surprised at the sight of each other today." A man began. "Is there a reason that you find this situation unpleasant?" She turned to Trunks, who smiled.

"No, there isn't." Still that amazing smile. "I couldn't believe how amazing she looked." He gestured towards her, and the crowd all smiled appropriately. Pan, positive it wasn't a suck up comment, resisted the urge to go, "Awww."

She caught Conner Degraid's face in the crowd. He was watching the two of them intently, and she could see his shoulders were hunched, not anxious to be recognized.

"Your families have been very good friends. Has this affected that friendship at all?" Pan shook her head noticeably, and Trunks pointed in the audience to Goten.

"My best friend, Goten, is a Son. He came with me, so I suppose not." She had always known he was smart at these public questionnaire's, however the ease with which he spoke, the relaxed way he answered their questions. It amazed her, and yet she was not surprised.

"How has the breakup affected your schedule with Vixen Entertainment?" A lady asked, a tablet in her hand.

"Not very much." He said, and she rolled her eyes, hoping this wouldn't turn into a "Ask Mr. Brief's" segment. Not that she minded not having to answer any questions. "My good friend, Connor Degraid and I have been working hard. But we aren't so overloaded that anything could affect them very terribly. Thank you." And he pointed to someone else, his press conference expertise taking over.

"Miss Son is very attractive." She seemed to speak that to Trunks, in agreement. Pan smiled but was ready for the woman to continue. "Have you been dating much in London?"

"I, well…" She saw Trunks' concern, how he didn't want her embarrassed. "Not much in London…" She thought of Jace's phone calls, how he had wanted to fly out for spring break. "Well, I—a little." She didn't want to say he was back in the capitol, she didn't want to say anything. She decided that merely saying "a little" would be just fine.

The reporter seemed terribly satisfied with her answer, and began scribbling at rapid rate.

"What about you, Mr. Brief's?" A woman asked. Trunks' thought about Aiko for the briefest moment, remembered breaking up with her…

"No, um, not much." He said quietly, and she nodded her thanks before writing. Pan glanced at Trunks, quick to look away lest someone catch it, but she saw there the sincerest honesty of truth.

"Do you have a job, Miss Son? Are you attending school in London?" Trunks looked to her, realizing he didn't know the answer to this question.

"I have a job." She said. "Working with Capsule Corporations, actually." She nodded, and another man jumped to ask a question.

"Did Mr. Brief's give you that job, Miss Son?" The insult was obvious, and he was smiling wickedly at her, chuckling. She swallowed, staring him down, but when she opened her mouth to speak she was interrupted.

"No." Trunks' voice was solid, and the man seemed to nearly jump. "No I did not. In fact," And he gained volume. "I didn't know she had it until now." He glared at the man again, and every reporter's pen or pencil was scratching at a speed that was demonic.

"Miss Son, do you plan to make London your home?" A lady asked timidly in the back, and Pan flashed her a pleasant smile that made her a little more bold.

"For now, I do. I don' know whether I will reside there permanently, but I love it. So hopefully I will have the chance to at least for a little while." She nodded enthusiastically, and the questioner thanked her.

"What, in your past experience with dating Mr. Brief's, have you learned about him?" Pan had to admit it was a good question.

"Well," She began with a smile. "He's good to be able to do all he does." She laughed silently, along with most of the crowd, but she turned thoughtful. "I have learned that anything and everything good that is said of him, is true. He's smart, funny, and attractive. Yes, he's Superman." And before anyone could speak, could find words to follow, she pointed to another reporter.

"Then perhaps we should ask the same question of Mr. Brief's about Miss Son." All eyes turned to trunks, camera's, as they had consistently, flashed, and even Ms. Steele had rapt attention for his answer.

"If, then, I am Superman," He began. "Then Pan would have to be my Lois Lane. Things unfortunately didn't work out between us in a romantic way, but we will always be friends. And she will always be Lois Lane."


	14. Not Enough

Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday to me! Happy birthday Astarii…happy birthday to me!!! OK, it's late, it's lame, but whatever. My birthday was on Monday! +sings+ "You are sixteen, going on seventeen, here's what I have to say…" (realizes no one but herself has seen the sound of music) Anywayz, consider this a late birthday present _from_ me. hehe. (reviews and online gift certificates will be accepted at belated gifts) Just kidding…about the gift certificate part. ;) Well, hope everyone is doing okies-dokies, and I hope you like the chapter. Read on!

P.s. For anyone who wanted to know, my trip to Utah was swell. Thanks for your consideration and lovely bon voyage emails! (no, I didn't go skiing for everyone who mentioned that I should enjoy it for them. my apologies. did I ever even mention I was going skiing in the first place? +blinks+)

When the interviews were over, Pan, with a thankful heart that all went well, was escorted to the room she had waited in before.

Mary Kate dashed into the room with an excited smile, and she couldn't stop complimenting and congratulating her relieved friend.

"I'm just ready to get home." Pan sighed. "But I still have another whole interview tomorrow." She forced a breath through her teeth and Mary Kate sympathized with furrowed brows.

With a glance to Mary Kate, Pan spoke up again with, "You wanted to do some sightseeing, didn't you?" She could read her friend's expression—they were flying home tomorrow and wouldn't be able to get much sightseeing done between Pan's other interview, her magazine executive lunch, and the plane ride home nearly just after.

Mary Kate was about to assure her it was OK, and Pan was about to go even though she didn't want, but both were interrupted when Goten burst into the room.

"Panny!" He cheered, taking her into a monstrous, Son man hug, and she hugged him back, though maybe not _exactly_ as enthusiastic. "You did good." He assured her, and she nodded her thanks.

"Hey," He continued. "do you guys want to head out and do something?" Pan and Mary Kate exchanged glances. "Trunks just wants to go back to our hotel, but I wanted to go out. Even if it's just to eat or hang out somewhere. What about you guys?"

"Well, Pan was actually saying the same thing as…" She paused, not knowing what to call him. "Um, well, Trunks. But thanks for the offer." Pan shot her a curious glance, and Mary Kate explained they had already met outside.

"Do you want to come with me?" Goten offered. "Those two can bum out of the fun if they want." He flashed a spawn of Goku smile. "We could get something to eat and sightsee a bit of you'd like…?" Mary Kate nodded enthusiastically, and Pan agreed that was a great idea.

Half an hour later Pan stumbled into her hotel room, kicking her shoes off as she made her way to her bedroom where she promptly undressed.

Clad in a robe and slippers, she padded to the living room and plopped on the couch, picking up the closest magazine to browse lazily.

Not really to her surprise, Trunks was on the cover—wasn't there _anyone_ more interesting around at all?—and she flipped to his article. There was the usual topics. Their breakup (it was this months magazine), Vixen Entertainment's appliances hitting the stores, massive stock purchasing madness for Vixen, and a short little blip of Bulma in the interview.

There was a harsh knock on her door, and she set the magazine down to answer it, not in the mood to have to tell the maids to come back another time, and not in the mood to accept a stack of courtesy towels and soaps.

She opened the door, her baby blue robe split to her thighs, her slippers making her feet sweaty, and was surprised to see…Trunks. She lifted a brow for a moment at his figure, standing there, his shirt sleeves rolled up, collar undone, tie loosened, both hands grasping the door frame, his hair deliciously ruffled—she slapped herself at that thought and waited for him to speak.

He seemed tired, drained, and the silence ensued for several moments, both in the doorway, Pan curious as to what this visit was for.

"We need to talk." He said simply. But she didn't want to talk. She didn't want the energy-sucking act of trying to put thoughts into words correctly. She didn't want to address anything. Didn't feel there was anything to address. But he was here, and she couldn't not let him in…couldn't not let him say what he felt he needed to say and hear her voice in return…

"Come in." She tried to brush the situation off as totally casual—perhaps it was and she was just expecting too much. She glanced at him again as she made her way to her own bedroom. No, she wasn't expecting too much.

She walked into her room, her fingers lacing her thick hair into a braid as her feet padded on the carpet. She noticed he was following her, just as she had intended, and she slipped into the bathroom a moment to snap a rubber band around the end of the plait.

She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, watching his form that was sitting on the foot of the bed.

"You did good today, Pan. I'm proud you had the courage to do it." She thanked him silently with a slight smile and a warm nod, and he stood up, almost nervously. Her eyes took in every physical aspect of him: every movement, every jerk, every flexing or relaxing muscle. She'd known him too long not to be able to gauge his physical behavior.

"Pan," He began, and she blinked slowly. "you know what I wanted to talk to you about." And yes, she did. She had known ever since she had opened the door. She took a couple steps towards him, becoming quite close, as she nodded.

"Pan, I—" And he began to pace, his body tense, his words not flowing. "I—" She could sense his frustration, like an electricity in the air, could feel his father's temper rising—though she didn't know what the temper was directed at. Herself, or the lack of articulate form he was experiencing—perhaps both. Perhaps both, and the frustration of the topic.

This conversation was built up, thought over…

"Trunks—" She began like a mother to a child, and he pointed to her with his entire hand.

"Don't." He said, nearly snapping, and she bit the inside of her lip. "Pan, I've been thinking. I've been thinking since the day you left. About you, about our decision…mostly about you. I miss you, Pan." He said desperately. "I want you by my side—I can't bear to think of you flying back to London tomorrow. When you said that you'd like to make London your home—even if just for a little while…I can't let you go." He shook his head, and she looked to the bed, avoiding his gaze.

With one swift gesture he grasped her waist and twirled her, lying her on the bed, his arms on either side of her shoulders as he held her gaze piercingly.

"Don't look away from me, Pan. Please don't." She fought the urge to look away—she didn't want to hurt him by not meeting his eyes—but he was staring at her so intently, and the urge won, and she glanced to his chest.

"I love you, Pan." He said softly, and she could feel her lower lip tremble as he brushed a stray bang away from her face so very gently. "I always have…I always will."

She turned her head away from his touch, and it was only then that she realized that she had been holding her breath. She released it and was embarrassed to find it came out in a ragged gasp.

"But, Trunks…" She began, speaking—or so it seemed—for the first time in an eternity. "What about…" She stuttered, and with a sharp pain in his chest he remembered the reason for their breaking up. For their taking a break.

"I didn't love her." He confessed sincerely, passionately, leaning on his entire forearms, pressing his forehead into the curve of her neck and shoulder. "I didn't. I love you, Panny." His nickname brought pain as she formed her next words.

"But not enough to not be tempted by her…" She said sadly, and felt his body grow stiff. "We were both caught in the same betrayal, and so I do not blame you. But that is the fact, Trunks, whether we'd like to believe it or not." His body, still stiff, pulled back from their embrace, and he looked down upon her face.

She saw the deepest pain and sorrow present on his features, his red eyes, his tired brows, his desperate lips…she wanted to hold him, comfort him…but she couldn't.

"No words could describe how sorry I am…" He said, his voice cold and yet familiar, and she responded, agreeing, with the barest of nods.

He caressed her cheek, drawing his fingers along her neck, down her shoulder and arm, to the tip of her fingers, which he kissed, sending a longing for his lips upon hers that she had to deny action to.

And without another word, he left.

"_Flight 214 for London now boarding at gate A22. All passengers please remember no more than two carry-on's are permitted. ID's are not required, but we request that your tickets be…_"

The hustle and bustle now taking place at gate A22 wasn't enough to tear Pan from her thoughts. Her black bag in one hand, her purse on her left shoulder, she fiddled with the corner of her ticket absentmindedly as she waited in line.

Mary Kate had a grin on her face and an excited air about her as she hefted her carry-on more firmly on her shoulder and looked around like a puppy in public.

Conversation wasn't abundant. It hadn't been all morning. When Mary Kate returned to their hotel suite at about nine-thirty, Pan was already asleep. And while they both did their last-minute packing and checking, while they took showers and got dressed, Pan had been excruciatingly somber.

Not in the mood to keep swimming for good ground when they spoke, she remained silent for the most part, only speaking to Pan when necessary or when a subject came up freely.

Mary Kate imagined what must have happened in a general way. There was no way both Trunks and Pan would ignore each other when both their companions were out and their suites were next door, and guessing from Pan's tired eyes and sharp and somber mood, things hadn't gone well.

She only wished she knew exactly what had happened.

Only when the silence pressed so heavily between them it was stifling, after they were seated on the plane, did Mary Kate dare to say anything about it at all.

"Did you see much of Trunks yesterday?" She inquired casually, and Pan shot her a look. "OK, OK." Mary Kate began in a more up front tone. "It's none of my business, I know, but you're looking about as bright as dracula and about as cheery as medusa." This deserved another look which Pan promptly gave her.

"I don't want to talk about it." Pan said simply.

"I guessed as much. And so, I guess what I want to say is that I'm here if you need to talk, or want to talk, or just want to hear yourself talk." Pan sat in silence for several moments before she nodded appreciatively.

Goten, as he stood at gate D67, could sense Trunks' bad mood like an electrical storm above his head. Trunks was getting stressed and irritated about everything.

The moving sidewalk was down for repairs; this earned a hiss of his teeth. They had to wait in line; this earned much complaint. They gave him an aisle seat; this earned ramblings about fat people tripping over him on the way to the bathroom. They made him go for a second scanning; this earned raves asking if they knew who he was.

Finally, twenty-three discussions, five ramblings, eight cursings, and 29 hisses and sighs later, they were at their gate, where Trunks was speed zipping through Newsweek.

"When is it leaving?" He shot at Goten, who was browsing through his New York City postcard book.

"Um," Goten glanced at his watch. "About forty-five minutes." Trunks sighed forcefully, though not surprisingly to Goten, and he flopped Newsweek—now finished cover-to-cover—down on the seat next to him.

Now his cerulean eyes darted here and there, looking lazily at some sights, thoughtfully at others, and finally Goten slapped his hands to his knees and looked Trunks straight on.

The Saiyan prince looked at him, confused, and blinked.

"What?" He said, almost sounding like a teenage girl, and Goten took in a deep breath and released it…then took another and released it before continuing.

"What happened with Pan?" Trunks cocked a brow, irritated, and Goten felt like hiding, but bucked up his courage. "I'm serious. I know something happened; you can't hide it. And since I'm _your_ best friend, and _her_ uncle, I believe that I'm not out of place to ask what. Especially since I have to put up with you for an entire plane ride. I'm already sick of ya'."

There was silence, and Trunks seemed to consider, his expression open-minded and contemplative. Then he stood up and made his way to the gift shop.

"I'm going to get another magazine." He said with a snappy tone, and Goten snorted, watching Trunks' retreating back with disbelief.

"Trunks!" He called after him, but his fellow demi-Saiyan ignored him, and Goten turned out to look like a moron in front of the people that stared at him as he continued to call after Mr. Brief's.

Back in London things were going smooth as silk. Her job was good, no one had pressed for any more information than she volunteered, and she hadn't had to think about Mr. Capsule Corporations once.

Several days after she had gotten back she received a phone call from Jace. She picked up the receiver happily, and after hearing about his trip—to NASA. She couldn't think of anywhere else she'd rather go for a trip—he asked her about the interview.

"I know what happened," He said in his friendly, good-guy voice. "I mean, I saw the interview—would I miss it?—and picked up the magazine—even though it's not my style—but what really _happened_? How'd it go? Did you like the outcome…did they edit anything important?" He was so jumpy and excited it was impossible for her to not smile.

"OK, OK, first let me sort out the question." She teased. "Actually they didn't edit out anything, which is surprising. I thought I wouldn't be able to recognize the interview but it's just like when she interviewed me. And well, you know, the live interview was," She laughed. "Imagine this: _live_." She heard his light laugh on the other line, and she pulled her slipper-clad feet up under her on the recliner.

"Hang a sec," He said quickly, and she heard him rustling around. "What about this quote in the magazine interview: '_My earliest memory of Trunks? Probably when I fell in the mud. No, he didn't help me, but he sure thought it was funny_.'"

"Well! It's the truth!" She exclaimed, but he was still quoting.

"'_I think he eventually helped me, but it took him a while_.' And then it says, _'We asked Mr. Brief's about this event, to which he said the following: 'I don't even remember that! Wait, I think I do. Hey, at least I helped her up. Did she mention she was spying on her uncle and I? That she wanted to make sure we weren't coming inside for a while so that she could play our video games? No, I didn't think she mentioned that fact.' So there are two sides of the story?_'"

Pan had to laugh at that. It was true. At least he didn't mention—or know—that she was also wanting to eat their favorite cereal? Those were good times, she had to admit.

"I want to meet this guy." Jace joked, and she heard a bunch of clattering in the background.

"You cooking?"

"Yeah."

"Well, sure, I'll introduce you sometime. Hey, actually, when summer starts I'm coming home—you know that already—but you should come over for the big 'beginning of summer barbecue' we always have." She always looked forward to that barbecue. Words could not describe the utter nirvana that the Brief's backyard was on that night.

"OK, sounds great. Hey, I'm gonna go, but I'll talk to you soon, a'ight?" She agreed happily, but an awkward pause stuck between them both.

A memory flashed in her mind. Trunks brushing her hair out of her face like only he could, his fingers feather soft upon her skin.

__

"I love you, Pan. I always have…I always will."

"I—I'll catch you later, Jace." She waited for his responding goodbye before she pushed the off button on the cordless phone, and she blinked away her dazed confusion—why then had her mind chosen to fling _that_ in her face?—while she absentmindedly rubbed the cat on her lap.


	15. A Day with Donny

Another chapter – whoo-hoo! Hopefully you enjoy. :) Shoutout's to all my fans, but I especially want to note the ones who IM just to say hey, or talk to me about my work, it really makes my evenings. I'm so glad you guys are excited to speak to me! (and yes, Kristy, I'm totally normal and won't beat you with a broom for IM'ing me. lol. You're a cutie!) Thanks to everyone who review's, I love reading them. Hope everyone's new year is going great – I'm thinking about ya'll!

Trunks brushed a gentle hand through Pan's hair, his fingers trailing down the side of her face as her slow tears dripped down her cheeks. Her voice, ragged from her lengthy speech, continued her confession. Continued her plea for acceptance and understanding, even as she forgave his own actions.

"I just…need you, Trunks." And with her last burst of desperate desire she threw herself into his welcoming arms as the breeze made the ends of her hair dance against his shoulder.

"It's OK, Panny. It's OK." A reassuring hand patted and rubbed her back. He didn't give a care for the mascara stained tears that stained his white shirt, or the weight that was now in his lap.

She was here, with him. That's all that mattered. His life was perfect.

Even more than it had seemed before. He had a thriving company, money, riches, popularity with any company he chose…but he hadn't had _her_. She was all that mattered…

With a sharp gasp Pan awoke to a sunny London morning, her body rising to a sitting position.

Wide-eyed she looked around the room, and with confused surprise her hand found tears streaming down her cheeks.

~*

Capsule Corporations was currently stuck in a whirlwind of pandemonium. Papers were flying, phones were ringing, and through it all Trunks had a killer migraine.

And when Claire buzzed him, requesting to enter his office, he shouted, "What!?" before he even knew what he was doing. She entered timidly, looked at him warily, and with a sigh she asked if he would like some pain meds.

"No." He responded irritably, but she took no offense.

"Mr. Brief's…perhaps you should just take a break. Do you want to go home for the rest of the day? We'll be fine here—"

"You _won't_ be fine here." He snapped. "But thanks anyway. It's crazy today, Claire." His explanation wasn't truly heard, for she was waiting for a chance to speak from the beginning.

"It's not going to change just because you're here." She pointed out, and, annoyed, he had to admit she was right. Not that he'd let her know that, of course. "I—" But she was interrupted by the entrance of Donny Evans, Bura's fiancé.

"Nearly-brother-in-law!" He greeted cheerfully. Trunks groaned inwardly, but didn't let his annoyance show. "How's it going?" His cheer was present, however the sing-song attitude was replaced with his usual, neutral, tone.

"Kind of busy." Trunks said quietly. "What are you here for?" Donny and Claire exchanged looks, and Trunks looked at them both in disbelief.

"Mr. Evans was hoping to have lunch with you today, however I said you were free to spend the rest of the afternoon with him instead." She and Donny exchanged another look, which clearly stated she had volunteered Donny for more than lunch to "help Trunks out". He rolled his eyes.

~*

Pan hadn't been able to shake that dream that left her, perplexing, crying. Why would it do that? She supposed she was PMS'ing, or something like that, because this attitude really just wasn't _Pan_.

She spread out the newspaper on the table before her in the quaint coffeeshop she had come to treat like a second home.

She sipped a double-shot espresso as she scanned the recent world news—several Capsule Corporations and Vixen Entertainment articles included, naturally—and a blackberry scone was getting crumbly and stale on a small plate next to her coffee.

She would be endlessly content if this were to be the rest of her life. If she could stay suspended like this for eternity.

Live would be so much simpler if the only choices you had to made were tall or grande, double shot or decaf, blueberry scone or chocolate chip coffee cake.

Drama would be limited to spilt coffee, worries would only contain cold drinks or a slightly unpleasant waitress. The news would only be what was on the front page, and your company would be intelligent artist-types who would speak fluently about interesting topics or coffee types, if they talked at all.

Pan sighed. It would be the life…at least for her.

She turned the page of the newspaper and felt disdain surge. Trunks face was looking at her, and in bolt, italic letters were the words, "Vixen stock still soaring." She crumpled the newspaper and tossed it into the trash.

~*

Trunks' vote was outnumbered by Claire and Donny's, and he supposed it wouldn't be too harmful to spend the afternoon with his sister's fiancé.

And so he found himself eating lunch with a male model.

And so he found himself looking very carefully at Donny while the blonde looked at his menu.

He was gorgeous? He carefully examined his facial structure, his features…and he had to admit he was a good looking guy. But, no, his features weren't breathtaking, as Bura had described them…were they? He wasn't the best judge, he had to admit, as he usually didn't look at guys that way…

"Yo', you know what you want yet?" He blinked at looked at Donny—well, looked at him differently.

"Um—"

"Do I have snot hanging out of my nose or something?"

"Sorry, I just—" But Donny just laughed.

"It's fine. You were looking at me and thinking about the whole male model thing, weren't you?" Trunks tried to not look so shocked. "Not to sound weird, but guys do it all the time." He sighed, shutting his menu, and turning devastatingly serious.

"Trunks," He began in a much lower tone. "I have to address the real reason I brought you here. I don't know…" He cleared his throat and took a breath. "I don't know how to say this, and I—I don't want to hurt Bura. But the truth can't be hidden.

Trunks, millions of scenario's, situations, confessions, denials—everything was swarming through his head as Donny continued.

"But, Trunks, I have to be honest. I'm…I'm gay, Trunks, and it's you who I really love."

~*

Pan came home to an empty house. The cat's yowled in the kitchen, begging for food, and when she entered the kitchen the sound almost blew her away. Five cats—Lynda had gotten even more since her last residence—yapped and pawed at her as she set her bag and empty espresso grande cup down on the island.

She dumped the dry cat food—she thought distantly about how Lynda rarely used the dry food and only as a substitute if she ran out of the other—into their separate dishes and then put it back in its cupboard down by her feet.

By the time she had fish sticks and left over chinese food into the microwave the phone rang, and she picked up the cordless.

"Pan?" Her mother's pleasant voice made Pan smile as she greeted her mother in return. Videl began a casual conversation, speaking of life at home, questioning Pan's life when appropriate. But Pan sensed an underlying topic her mother wanted to address, and she called her out on it.

"What did you really call for, mom?" Pan asked realistically, taking her munchies into the sitting room next to the kitchen and curling up in an armchair.

"I wanted to talk to you." Pan rolled her eyes.

"I know, but about what?" She heard her mother sigh, and Videl didn't pull any more punches.

"All right, Pan." She began. "I have to be honest." Pan, though her mother couldn't see her, made a gesture of impatience. "I was looking through your article, and Trunks' article, watching the tape and all that.

"And Pan, I have to ask you. Would you re-consider going through with marrying Trunks?"

~*

"You're joking, right?" Trunks asked, eyes not moving from Donny's. Donny smiled.

"Yeah, I am." Trunks sighed in relief. "Lighten up, dude! _Seriously_. What's got your boxers in a knot so bad today?" Trunks, still recovering from the joke, shrugged. "Well, whatever does, I know how to lighten your mood today." Trunks looked at him in annoyed disbelief. "Yeah, I do. After lunch, I'm taking you for a surprise."

"Will my dad approve?" Trunks shot at him in a girlish voice, and Donny snorted. "I guess I'll just have to be held in unbearable suspense while I eat. Life is so hard."

An hour later Trunks and Donny were sitting in Donny's limo, totally laid back as the chauffeur carried them to this mysterious destination.

"Do you take Bura on these romantic drives?" Trunks teased, and Donny chuckled. "Or does it not impress her beyond all reason?"

"She's used to limo's." Was all Donny said, and Trunks raised his brow. "I mean, she's been rich her whole life, hasn't she? I'm nothing extravagant compared to that. I mean, I wasn't even in the major big time until Bura got me connections anyway."

"She did?"

"Yeah, she got me in contact with some upper-class agents and such. Hey, that brings me to something I want to talk to you about in a way. Your dad isn't, well, I just think it would be better to address this to you.

"I know you guys have a lot of money, that you're generous and all of that…but Trunks, I don't want any of your money. Your family's money, all that. I don't mean this rude, or prideful…but I suppose there is a high level of pride in this. It's just, I want to provide for Bura. I love her, I want to take care of her. I don't care if modeling fails, if everything fails; I'll work fast food to take care of her. Promise me you'll let me do this?"

Trunks sat in silence for several moments, the serious conversation taking every ounce of his thoughts, his concentration.

He was glad. Happy. Excited that Bura's guy was like this. That though he was a male model—Trunks had been wary of his occupation and therefore himself in general—he was serious. He knew what he wanted, had goals…wanted to take care of his little sister.

"OK." Trunks agreed happily, and Donny's serious expression spread into a smile.

It was then that they pulled into an arcade's parking lot.

Donny wasn't a bad guy. Trunks realized with a grin. It seemed to him that they were going to get along a lot better than he had imagined.

~*

Silence followed Videl's question. Pan was too shocked to form any response for several moments. And, when she did, the only thing she could bring forth from her lips was, "Mom?"

She heard her mother sigh on the other line, could hear…almost…disappointment? Videl seemed to take a breath, as if she was about to speak, and Pan waited patiently.

"You loved him, Pan. Very much. I know. Don't you still love him? I find it hard to believe that everything would drop so suddenly—"

"But we cheated on—" Her mother's sigh interrupted her, and Pan's emotions were up and down, angry, sad, lonely, frustrated.

"I know what happened."

"Oh, you do?" Pan was suddenly too hot to trot. She was sarcastic now, sharp-tongued, and irritated. "You know that some random guy at the library set me on fire? That Trunks met a random waitress and went on a date with her? That he was dreamy-eyed about her…that I couldn't spend enough time with Jace? No one's out in the cold here, mom; we both made the same mistake.

"How could we get married if we both were looking at other people? Obviously we both were attracted to someone else, and acted upon it. He's not the one, mom. He can't be. I wouldn't be looking at other guys if he was. He wouldn't be looking at other girls if I was."

"I didn't ask about your mistakes, Pan. I didn't ask you to point out what was wrong.

"I asked you if you love him."

~*

After a day with future brother-in-law, male model Donny, Trunks had to admit he liked him. He approved.

While they both drank glass-bottled root beer in the back of Donny's limo, they talked about anything and everything. It was then that Donny brought up a question he'd been wanting to ask Trunks.

"What was it like seeing Pan? You know, when you went for the interview?" His breath stopped in his chest as he remembered the scene in Pan's hotel room. The confession. The pleading…the rejection.

He burst out with "Fine", hoping that any word, even one at random, that was said without a pause wouldn't divulge his dislike of the subject. Donny was still looking to him.

"She was still Pan." He joked, but even when he said those words he knew that wasn't even true. When she had walked onto the platform, her eyes wide and surprised, her body rigid in shock…she had been beautiful then. Dark and alert and those eyes that took up her whole, high-cheekboned face.

"Did it hurt?" Donny's question was out of the blue, totally casually, and terribly comfortable. Perhaps it was this that triggered Trunks' next words, actions.

He nodded tensely and said, "Yeah. It did." He wasn't sure why there was this sudden bearing of his soul. Didn't know why he had told Donny of all people. But when Donny nodded, sipping his drink a little, totally understanding, he knew it hadn't been a mistake.

"Did you want her back?" He then asked, the twinkling-star ceiling of the limo and minuscule bulbs near the floor casting the only light upon them.

"Yes." Was all he said, his expression giving away pain, reflection, disappointment.

"But it didn't happen." It wasn't a question, more a though, a pondering muse spoken aloud, but Trunks answered it anyway.

He spilled.

Spilled the entire story, from the frustrating wedding plans that he didn't really care about, to the last time he saw her, lying there on the bed, her expression cold and yet sad and hurt.

He had said, "She didn't even watch me leave, just saw it from the corner of her vision." When he was telling Donny the close of the story. Both bottles were empty now.

~*

"I asked you if you love him." Her mother's words were ringing in her ears, driving her mad, making her think harder than she wanted to.

"I don't know, mom." Was all she could muster herself to say, for it was the truth. "I just don't think this is how love works." She confessed.

"Love isn't rose-colored glasses and meadows full of flowers. I've been in love, am in love. Don't expect it to be a fairy tale full of knights and dragon-slaying." She knew it wasn't. But…was she perhaps in denial? This whole time had she expected Cinderella or Snow White, secretly thinking she knew better? It seemed to fit…but she couldn't think herself so silly. Pan wasn't a silly girl.

"Pan," Her mother continued. "Trunks and yourself had a magical romance. Here you were, plain Pan, I have to admit, not caring about popularity, your looks, all the usual things regular girls go through, all the while dreaming about this perfect guy.

"And then, there you are. He discovers you, and you help him to discover himself, and then you're all he can see. You had a fairy tale, complete with the ball at the end…well, almost.

"But then you started planning your wedding, both of you had disagreements surface not necessarily from the wedding, but you had them. Reality struck both of you, and both of you didn't know what to do with it."

"I've never had reality?" She returned sharply. "No, I just had my heart broken, went to London, struck rock-bottom…"

"Pan, please listen to me." Her mother said. "I'm just generalizing, but I'm right. Marriage is an adjustment. Your father and I almost had a fairy tale get-together of sorts. More likely a super-hero movie, but you know what I mean. I pulled the mask off of the 'Great Saiyaman', there was world terror with Buu, which he got me through. No matter what everyone says, we were both on a love high when we got married. Only then did we have to adjust. We had to comply to each other. We had settle too different colored Jello Jigglers into a bigger, different mold." Pan chuckled at the analogy.

"I'm going to hang up with you before we get into a larger conversation…but I want you to think of what I've said. I want you to _consider_. Please, Pan, if only just for me." And then Videl, for the first time in her life, hung up on her daughter.


	16. The Technology Convention

Greetings everyone! Another chapter—sorry it's been so long, or maybe it just seems long. No matter! The chapter's here! A note, however. I have nothing against homosexuals. In fact, I have several homosexual friends, and so there is no meant stabbing at being gay or lesbian in the appropriate scenes in this chapter. Just wanted to state that. Anywayz! Sorry this chapter's a little on the shorter side. I'll be honest in saying I tried to lengthen it and that was unsuccessful. This chapter wanted to stay as is, that's for sure! Hello to everyone, thank you to all my reviewers who are so faithful, and a quick shout to all my fans who IM or email—thank you so much!

Pan hadn't slept that whole night it seemed. Or, she would have sworn to that had she not had those dreams. So realistically they portrayed her life that was to come…or, they portrayed different scenario's that could occur. She hated those dreams, but even more, she hated the prospects they showed.

At eleven o'clock in the morning Pan's cell phone rang. She always set it on her night table with the charger plugged in and leaving a wire trail to the outlet, and the tune of fur elise seemed to blare in her ears.

Having still not recovered from her lack of sleep the night prior, she admitted to using a few choice words while she struggled to get out of her warm cocoon of blankets. She picked it up and glanced at the blue screen before taking it to her ear.

"What?" She sounded like the crypt keeper, she had to admit, and she cleared her throat.

"Still asleep?" Jace's voice on the other line sounded both surprised and apologetic, and she assured him it was all right.

"What did you want?" He hesitated. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant it like, well, what do you want? I meant to say what I said but I didn't mean it like that." After that sentence he still hesitated. "Oh, just spit it." She blurted, annoyed with herself.

"Well, I just wanted to call and tell you some good news. You'll never believe it, but I got invited to the convention!" He was so excited, like a kid just finding out Disneyworld was on for the family vacation.

"That's awesome!" Jace had been dying to get into this convention for months, she knew. It was a technology-based convention highlighting physics as its main specialty, and as a nuclear physics major, Jace was as good as there if he could get in.

"OK, but here's the big news," He began. "They gave me two tickets and, well, I was hoping you'd like to come with me…?"

~*

Hadn't she remembered how much she hated flying? The cramped quarters, the swaying, bumping plane, the way it was always too warm—stifling, really—the teeny-tiny plastic cups of soda and the micro-mino bags of over-salted peanuts?

Ugh, she just wanted out! This instant! Wouldn't someone save her!?

"I need to go to the bathroom—" She stood up abruptly and tripped over Jace before he could respond. She threw herself into the cramped bathroom and shut the door behind her.

She didn't have to use the bathroom, she just needed to do something before she self-combusted.

It was only a matter of time, however, before she realized she was even more confined than before, and busted out of the bathroom, panting.

She really looked a wreck when she sat—more to the truth, plopped and fizzed—down and buzzed for a flight attendant.

"How much longer to New York?" She whined in a groan to Jace. "I need out, I think I'm going to puke—when are we going to get there?"

"We've only been on the plane for an hour!" Pan groaned loud enough for him to look embarrassed and wish he hadn't chose to fly to London for the weekend so they could fly to New York together.

The nice flight attendant approached with a cheery smile. She had bobbed blonde hair, a smart blue suit on, and a british accent.

"Could I have some more soda—er, beverage please?" The woman nodded. "Actually, I'll take three or four—sprite." She turned to Jace after she left. "How much longer?"

~*

"What!?" The entire building most likely heard him. Still he looked at the paper, his eyes wide, his face disbelieving…

"Sorry, my friend." His eyes didn't flicker to the speaker. Didn't flicker to Donny. "If I knew this would have happened—"

"Where did it come from?" He asked, still in disbelief.

"I have no idea, but all the papers had it…funny, too, perfect timing with my, er, confession." Donny chuckled, but Trunks didn't find it amusing in the least.

Finally Claire came in—hadn't Trunks buzzed her hours ago?—and he shoved the paper in her face.

"Trunks Brief's and male model Donny Evan's—homosexuality leading the way at Capsule Corporations." She read aloud. "Where—"

"Did it come from?" Trunks finished for her. "We were just together, hanging out—he's my future brother-in-law for pete's sake!" If he had had anything unbreakable nearby he would have chucked it through the window. Heck, he would have thrown something breakable through the window had he not realized that:

The windows are very, very, _very_ expensive. It takes forever to get them replaced, and he didn't want to wait for that. The draft wouldn't be pleasant while he waited for the repair. 

Thus, he opted not to do that.

Instead, he had Claire begin a massive press conference to counteract the situation.

~*

After checking into the hotel, Jace left his own room to watch some TV in Pan's along with her. They flipped channels aimlessly; mostly just talking about tomorrow's plans while something they weren't interested in in the least was flashing across the screen.

Finally Pan convinced him to call room service for some dinner, though there hadn't been much convincing to be honest.

She flipped on the news and snuggled into the overstuffed couch in the sitting room area of the suite, and snuggled with a pillow, watching the blonde reporter smile at her and carry on the headlines of the evening.

__

"He was convicted of second degree murder and sentenced to—"

"Pizza or chinese?" Jace called from the bedroom, to which she agreed to chinese without hesitation. The news continued on, and as usual, Pan was sucked in.

__

"In response to the headline that Trunks Brief's of Capsule Corporation fame was seeing male model Donny Evans—" Pan snorted in surprise and jumped to a sitting position. _"he had a public press conference earlier this evening, with Mr. Evans present."_

The shot changed to the press conference in question, and Pan couldn't even blink.

__

"I am here this evening to deny the false headlines present in many newspapers this morning. While I am good friends with Mr. Donny Evans, he is not in fact someone I am seeing in that nature. I would also like to mention that, if you recall several tabloids about him seeing my sister, Bura Brief's, seriously, those tabloids would be correct. Mr. Evans and my sister have been seeing each other now for about a year."

Always the best diplomat. Pan thought to herself. _Always the best at these kinds of things._

"Mr. Evans, you are a male model. How do you think this will affect your image?" A reporter asked, a woman with a pink suit and dark skin. She saw Donny chuckle.

__

"Well, I wouldn't think it would affect it at all, as the rumors are not true. If you are asking in the thought of if people will further question my sexuality, then I shall state that there is no reason to question. As Mr. Brief's said, I am seeing his sister seriously."

Donny was pretty good as well, she had to admit.

__

"Mr. Brief's! How will these occurrences affect your technology convention starting tomorrow?" Another reporter, a woman about thirty with brown hair, asked, tape recorder in hand.

__

"I wouldn't think it would affect it at all. At least I hope not. If no one comes then I will admit to being disappointed." He joked, and the screen turned back to the main news reporter.

Pan turned her head to where Jace was getting a glass of water.

"Jace? Who is sponsoring tomorrow's convention?" She asked slowly.

"Capsule Corporations. Why?" Pan then chose not to think of anything but the chinese food that was on its way.

~*

The next day Pan awoke to a bright hotel room with fresh towels, the TV still on in the sitting room, and empty chinese take out boxes strewn everywhere.

Still, bright and cheery at eight-thirty she met up with Jace for breakfast and then hopped in a cab with him for convention center.

New York was lovely at present. The late April air was breathtaking, and she breathed in the scent of damp earth and fresh leaves. Jace didn't seem to be taking in much of the scenery or time of the year. He was cracking his knuckles at random, and his gaze darted here and there, and he would speak suddenly or ask the strangest questions at the strangest times.

Jace Winthrow was giving a presentation. That had been how he had gotten two tickets, and how he was being able to miss school for the occasion. He was also hoping to luck out with an internship offer, as it was his last semester.

They were dropped off at the front where they handed an attendant their ticket before heading inside, and the moment the door closed behind them, Pan knew Jace was home.

Electronics, gadgets, gizmos, whatever you wanted that had electricity or power running through it was there. Everything you could imagine computer-oriented was there. _Everything_ was there.

And Jace was grinning so big she thought he might have smoked something before meeting up with her.

"OK, big boy," She began, turning to him with a happy grin. "Where you want to go first?" She thought he might pop.

~*

Pan was a technological type of person. She had grown up spending nearly half her time around Capsule Corporations in all its forms, from the skyscraper in the city to the Brief's home, and her dad was a computer and technological nut.

But she would also admit, in the same breath, that she was so tired of metal and wires and beeping robots at present she felt like—impossible!—boutique shopping maybe, or some other form of meaningless waste-of-time activity. (Although she had been finding shopping frivolously more and more fun as time passed)

So, when Jace—tragically—announced that it was time to start setting up for his presentation, she didn't hesitate for a second.

She waited patiently, clicking away on his spare laptop while he got everything set up. She sent dozens of little emails to everyone just saying hi, and felt the better for it. She was always neglectful about email, even though she would be thinking about them, and so she took advantage of the opportunity.

Jace gave his presentation quite brilliantly. Asking all the questions with perfect ease, being informative without rambling. She was proud of him, and after his grand finish she approached him.

"Hey, I'll wait outside, all right?" He nodded, his eyes somewhere else but listening faultlessly, and she dashed off so as not to be in the way of anyone who might want to meet him or speak with him.

She stood just to the side of the door, the laptop case grasped before her, looking like a schoolgirl in a black, pleated knee-length skirt and a button up white, short sleeved shirt, her hair parted to the side and pulled halfway back.

She saw many men and women pass her, exiting the room where Jace had given his presentation, all in business suits with palm pilots, laptops, and cell phones in hand, pockets, and clipped on in different places.

"He did well." The voice, so close and so familiar, made her jump. She turned to see Trunks standing next to her, an arm above his head, leaning against the wall. He had charcoal slacks on with a navy blue shirt and matching tie, the sleeves rolled up casually.

He looked perfect. Like an amazing, laid-back business man, but always the Trunks she remembered.

__

"Do you love him?"

Her mother's words rang in her ears and she tried her best to stifle the echo; he was speaking to her and she had to reply.

"Yes, he did. Did you enjoy it?" He had a palm pilot stuck to his belt, a cell phone clipped on the other side, a pen sticking out of his pocket.

"I did. Very much, in fact." She smiled neutrally, nodding. "Jace Winthrow." He repeated, the significance of his words bearing understanding. "He has a lot of doors open to him now, I believe. He has a lot of potential." She nodded again, her eyes downward.

"Well, Pan, I better be going." He gave her arm a quick squeeze. "I'll see ya' later!" And with that he was gone.

She saw his face, his expression, his form, everything. It repeated itself in her mind, a picture captured.

__

"Do you love him?" Her mother's words once again struck her hard, painfully, with a sickening jolt to her stomach. She watched his retreating back, saw him wave to people here and there, nod once or twice…still Trunks. He'll always be Trunks.

__

"Do you love him?"

Jace walked through the door. Everything stopped. The moment gone.

"You'll never guess what happened, Pan!" Another business man approached Jace, and he touched her arm, giving a silent signal to say, "just one moment".

Pan? Pan! Trunks had called her Pan. Just Pan. Not Panny. He'd never called her Pan—not, at least, in the same sort of situation. And that was something that smacked her hard. Harder than her mother's words. Harder than that moment when she saw him walk away…

"Sorry about that." She didn't answer, but he continued. "Anyway, guess what! You'll never believe this! _I_ can't believe this! I mean, oh, Pan…" She smiled though she knew it looked forced.

"He offered me a job!"

"Who?" She questioned, still confused. There were tons of business men in that room. How did he expect her to know—

"Mr. Brief's! Trunks Brief's! He offered me a job! Not even an internship if I don't want—a job! Working for Capsule Corporations! Can you believe it?"

No, she couldn't.


	17. Impulsive Behavior

Another chapter! This one was put together in pieces, I have to say. I would feel like writing one scene, and then another time I'd write the scene before it, when usually—almost always—I write everything in order. (that is, my fan-fiction things) Sorry this has taken so long, I've been working on my website—Shangra La—and hopefully it'll be totally flawless by the time I finish it. (the link's on my profile if anyone wants to stop by) Hope you enjoy the chapter!

Jace saw Pan onto the plane the next day, still so excited about the job opportunity she thought he might break out into spasms.

The plane ride back to London was pure torture. She had fourteen hours to do nothing but think. Riding alone could be bad for that reason, that reason, and, well, that reason. She had no one to talk to except for the wanna' be rapper sitting next to her, who listened to his music so loud she could have jammed to it as well, or perhaps the lady across from her who had bought an entire ticket for her miniature white poodle.

Was it just her, or was she truly surrounded by nutters day and night? Was she perhaps simply imagining the oddity in people with their weird quirks, or were they truly this insane? Was she honestly the _only_ sane person on the planet?

Again, riding alone for fourteen hours could do be bad for a person's mental health. And Pan sure had a lot of things to pore over and drive her insane.

She and Jace weren't literally dating. But, in a way, kind of, they were. He did invite her to the convention, they did call each other, they were attracted to each other…but Pan's heart really wasn't in it like that. At least, not as much as she felt the relationship would deserve if it were a relationship.

Her life at present was shifting once more. Her job would end next month, half of her roommates would graduate, thus it would be time for her to go back. But, the question was, back to where?

She didn't feel that she should stay in London. It was a feeling as if she were growing out of her childhood. Like, she didn't want to let go of something she loved and enjoyed so much, however the time had come, it was time to move on.

She could go back home, and perhaps get a job there. She could probably get a job at Capsule Corporations if she desperately needed a job, but she would only fall back on that when other alternatives fell through.

She could go to any major city in the world. Capsule Corporations gave her the flexibility that even if she didn't have a job in a city, she could pick one up at the closest Capsule Corps. office. There were unlimited possibilities in that instance.

She could go to New York. Jace was moving there in two months—as soon as school let out—to work in the New York Capsule Corporations office. But that brought her back to Capsule Corporations, which she would love to avoid at present. It also brought her back to Jace, whose relationship with she was questioning. And, besides, Jace was going to be training in the capitol for almost a year anyway.

Done pondering those different topics? There could always be limitless pondering and questioning and confusion to go along with her strange meeting with Trunks. It had left her with a nostalgic, bitter-sweet feeling that was in the same family as melancholy.

Was it perhaps a form of remembrance? A sadness for history? A nostalgic reminder of what was now unmistakably past? An era that can't be recalled?

Seeing him there, casually leaning against the wall, his lavender hair brushing across his forehead, dusting his brows. His cerulean eyes that so many times she had looked into his soul through.

He hadn't changed, it seemed. But she had, though she couldn't place what had changed.

_Do you love him?_

She hadn't talked to her mother since that conversation. Hadn't had a chance to respond, to reply to her question. She didn't think she did. Love him, that is.

_Love isn't rose-colored glasses and meadows full of flowers._

Then why was it always portrayed as such? Why has she always been told one, then the other? One, then the other? Fantasy, and then reality. Back and forth, back and forth. She caught herself glaring at the poodle, and kept her frustrations in check.

She didn't know what to think anymore. Didn't know what to feel. Didn't know what she thought, didn't know what she felt. She dinged the flight attendant for some soda with a frustrated sigh.

~*

Pan truly wasn't surprised when she ended up moving home. Her parents seemed to have expected that anyway. When she called them to tell them the good news they didn't seem surprised or necessarily excited. More of an "OK—when do you come in?" totally void of emotion.

And so she had said goodbye to her friends, most of whom were leaving as well. The parting at the plane was excruciatingly hard and she found herself crying while she walked down the ramp into the plane.

But now she was home, and unpacking several clothing boxes in her good old room at her parents house. She insisted, however, not to unpack everything, as she'd find a place of her own soon enough.

And so, one bright and sunny May morning she broke out into the world, both apartment hunting and job hunting as well.

Both didn't go as well as she'd hoped.

Most jobs she found were low-paying, teenage-type jobs which she groaned at, and as far as apartments she soon realized if she didn't want a fifteen-by-fifteen square she'd have to have a higher than minimum wage job.

She came disheartened but prepared to launch into the capitol once more the next day. However, when the alarm went off, she was less than bouncy. Instead she stumbled into the kitchen dressed in a mix-match way, her hair in a sloppy braid that she had slept in the previous night.

"Orange juice, please." Was her only request, while her mother fetched her some with one of those understanding, motherly looks. "I don't want to go today." She admitted, and another understanding look was shot her way.

"You know, sweetie, you could always work at Capsule—"

"I will not work at Capsule Corporations!" She exclaimed, and her mother turned once more to looking thoughtful. "What I need is Capsule Corporations housing." She mused in a sarcastic tone.

"You know, they do!" Videl, suddenly excited, poured a second serving of orange juice for her daughter. "You can stay at a Capsule—"

"I do _not_ want to live with the Brief's." She announced hotly, but her mother rolled her eyes at her ignorance.

"Capsule Corporations has apartments, condo's, housing complexes everywhere throughout the city. I'm sure Bulma would let you use one until you're on your feet. In fact, I'll ask her today." Pan's luck was beginning to look up.

~*

Turns out, not only was Bulma happily willing to help Pan out, she even let Pan pick which complex and neighborhood she wanted.

And so, the next day, Pan, Videl, and Bulma were at the door of an impressive, suite-style apartment in the downtown area. Bulma opened the digital lock and let them inside, where both Pan and Videl were struck breathless.

A roomy sitting room was the first room they saw, and beyond was an open dining area that connected to a balcony. A kitchen was to the left, and a twirling staircase took you upstairs to a loft-style bedroom.

"Awe-some." Pan found herself floating from space to space of the furnished apartment. It was decorated freshly, with a definite modern, contemporary, artistic air. Pan was in love.

She also took it without a second thought.

A week later Pan was moved in, and beginning a taste of a different sort of independent lifestyle which she was coming to love.

~*

Pan set down the plastic dish of food for Miss Kitty, her new cat picked up at a stray adoption center. She had sworn off cats after living in London with them creeping around everywhere, but when she saw Miss Kitty, chirping away, barely older than a kitten, she couldn't resist.

She had taken up a job at—unsurprisingly, when all was said and done—Capsule Corporations. Though she refused Bulma's offer to work in he main complex. The same skyscraper that Trunks had his office in.

She instead took a job just outside the capitol but close enough to still be considered city property, in a research facility. She liked the work well enough that she couldn't complain about it. She was, after all, only taking it until she got another job.

The clan had initiated a welcome back party for her—she hadn't even been gone long enough for some to notice—and she reluctantly attended one balmy, humid night.

Her flip-flops flipped-flopped on the sidewalk to Krillin and Eighteen's house in a quiet suburb, and the door opened before she even had to knock. Her mother and Bulma had decided that holding it at a family's house—a.k.a: her parents home or her grandparents home—and since, for some reason she hadn't been told, the Brief's house wouldn't work as well.

Marron greeted her with a hug and a cheery smile, ushering her into the family room where a small but cozy group were sitting around. She was glad it wasn't overcrowded; she didn't feel like having to update lots of people about her life. Especially since most of the time they only pretended to be paying attention whilst smiling and nodding. She didn't care, just disliked the waste of speech.

She fell easily into the groove of things, discussing London with Marron, telling Bulma of her plans. And when dinner was announced they all ushered themselves into the kitchen where a buffet-style meal awaited them.

The homey feel of everything made Pan feel at ease, but when an irritated chi entered the house her fur stood on end.

Trunks waltzed in, obviously in a temper, and when Bulma pulled him aside in the hall, asking what was wrong—was it work?—he shrugged her off and slouched into the kitchen for some food.

Pan's irritation was beginning to fuel itself as well at the sight of him. Mr. Trunks Brief's who had hired Jace. Oh, why had he done that? She was fidgeting with her carrot sticks when he came into the family room and plopped down on the couch.

The current speaker in the group—Bura—didn't even pause, nor did any of the listeners pay any heed to the moody prince of Saiyan's.

For what seemed an eternity conversations continued, Pan's carrots and broccoli suffering hair raising abuse as she fiddled with them. Trunks didn't say a word, mostly because no one felt like bothering him while he was in this mood, and because he didn't utter a word.

But, when different groups had dispersed into different conversations, after a trip to the bathroom, Pan found herself in the foyer with Trunks.

"Could I speak with you please?" She asked stiffly, and he nodded, motioning to a nearby sofa. "Bad day at work?" She questioned, though without sincerity. Expressionless he answered her, and she knew the answer before she had asked it. She nodded quickly, offering only fake empathy.

"You offered him a job." Her voice was taught, the words clipped. It wasn't a question and yet it was. Trunks sighed, frustrated.

"I didn't think it would bother you." He tried to sound casual, but it was a long shot. Everyone was sitting around them, talking the usual small talk, telling stories, playing video games. They couldn't be heard. They both knew they wouldn't let themselves be.

"I have to admit it does." He gave her a mocking surprised look. One that seemed to say, high-toned and casual, "Oh!" just to spite her. "I don't want Jace to work there. Me have to be around—"

"Me." He finished her sentence. She didn't attempt to deny it. There was a moment of pause where both of their eyes seemed to gaze around them good-naturedly, however neither of them were paying attention to their "surroundings".

"And so I take that last sentence to mean that the two of you are, say, an item? A couple? Wherever Jace goes, Pan follows?" She snorted.

"I didn't move here for Jace." He nodded, but not in agreement. "Is that what you think? That I moved here to be with Jace?"

"Why didn't you stay in London?" He returned.

"There was nothing for me in London." She tried to carry her volume down a touch. It was hard. Pan wasn't used to controlling her tongue or volume.

"You mean, Jace wasn't there for you in London."

"No—"

"Because there was plenty for you in London. Just as much as there is here in the capitol save for Mr. Jace Winthrow." He threw on a mimicking tone, imitating her. "I love London. There are so many historical things to see, so much to do." He dropped the mocking tone. "But no Jace, eh?" She snorted again, folding her arms.

"What, no comeback?" He then asked her, and she rolled her eyes. "OK, I guess not. Well, here's the deal, Pan. Sweetpop. Cupcake. _Doll_." His voice was becoming louder, but he didn't seem to care. "The bottom line is that I'm a business man. I guess it comes in the genes.

"But whatever the case, I didn't hire Mr. Nuclear Physics major just to bother you. I hired Mr. Jace Robert Winthrow because I need a guy like him. Believe it or not, he's got the stuff to go far. I want him to go far in _my_ company. OK?"

She forced out a rough sigh.

"OK, good. Then things are straight." And with that he got up and left her sitting there on the sofa, fuming.

~*

For several days she still fumed, until her fuming just wasn't practical anymore. Then she was only bitter inwardly. Perhaps she would have felt foolish, taking it personally, flattering herself by imagining Jace's hiring a brilliant scheme. But she didn't—that is, until the next morning.

But she wouldn't let it eat her up. She preferred to fume and be bitter in private, without discussing topics with herself, in her mind. It was better that way. You don't have to argue with yourself or ultimately prove yourself wrong.

Work was slow, but steady. She admitted to telling family members and life-long friends that she didn't have time for social gatherings or hanging out. The truth was she just didn't feel like it. Pan was going through one of her hermit stages. Where the world was one big thing she had to do, and felt like being lazy.

So, instead of doing anything useful, she sat in coffee shops and read newspapers, wrote in her journal. She took long walks, tried new restaurants on her own. And, in truth, she enjoyed the time terribly.

It was rainy at present. The kind of rain that just won't stop, even for a moment. Instead the only relief was the slight drizzle that occurred around noon, or sometimes it might actually stop for a few moments in the early evening.

On one such night, when the rain had reduced to thick moisture in the air, Pan threw on some track pants and a tank top. Lacing up her sneakers she jogged out the door and down the street.

She pushed herself hard, knowing she needed the workout, already the exertion making her feel great. Her feet slapped the sidewalk, and her laces bounced as she pounded along, now taking a path in the local park.

Her ponytail whacked against her back, the little hairs towards her forehead sticking to her face in a mixture of sweat and the wetness in the air. Already her hair was reacting and springing up into deep waves; her ponytail becoming thicker and thicker.

She heard the rain beginning again slowly, lapping upon the leaves of the trees above, but she paid no heed and continued running.

Soon the rain was undeniable. It was coursing down in what couldn't still be referred to as a drizzle, or even a light fall. Still Pan continued to run, feeling too good, not wanting to stop.

Her body was soaked through by the time she came home, but she was feeling better than ever. She was on a post-workout high as she entered her apartment, and reached for a glass which she promptly filled with water.

Setting the now empty glass into the sink, she got a towel out of the bathroom dresser and hopped into the shower. She lathered the soap thick, and washed her hair twice before she deemed herself ready to leave. Not that she wanted to, though.

Getting into cozy pajama's she sunk into the couch and turned on the TV, ready for a good relaxing night. Before fifteen minutes were up, she was asleep.

Late into the night she awoke to Style Court shivering from head to toe. She turned off the TV by the remote, tugged the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around herself. She was asleep within seconds.

The next morning the sun shone through the window, burning her eyelids. She was sore all over, achy, and her neck had a monumental crick in it. Everything seemed to hurt, even to the tips of her hair, and she coughed a cough that shook her body, ripping at a scratchy, sore throat.

She cursed herself for her stupidity. Sure, her run had cleared her head, made her feel great, but it was that same run which had made her now sick with an awful cold.

She groped around for the phone and dialed her work's number with an explanation for her absence, and with how awful her voice sounded, no one seemed to question.

The simple phone call wiping out her energy, she slumped back into the depths of the couch and pulled the blanket up over her head. Miss Kitty sat at her feet, licking her paws, and offering extra heat.


	18. Can't I Be Your Friend?

It's been forever! I'm so sorry! I've actually been out of town basically since about the 20th of may, never being home for more than a few days at a time. So there's my excuse I shall hide behind. I have lots of time on my hand now! So, um, no promises, but at least I plan on being good from now on! Lots of love to all my readers! Ja ne!

Pan was officially sick. And it seemed to her that whenever she was sick something bad happened. However she was too weary—and too sick—to expect really anything, or to build up some defenses based on anything bad that might occur.

She had managed a few minutes to drag everything important about her bed, like the cat's food, some food for herself, the phone, and the remote, and so her double bed was now a sanctuary and a haven for the sick girl in two braids on each side of her head.

The TV offered nothing promising, but that was nothing new, and so she found herself slowly but surely becoming addicted to shows like "Who's Makeover Is It Anyway?" and looked forward to "Eveningtime" and "40/40". This was disheartening, but when she realized this she noticed the time.

Pushing the thought away she clicked on the TV, for it was time for "Singing Sensation", and she wouldn't miss the judge on the show who thought everyone was constantly out of tune because, well, she always agreed with him.

She sadly also found herself voting for her favorite singer at the end of the show, and on the next evening turned on the channel five minutes early to avoid missing anything.

Pan thought she was becoming a hobbit, a little gremlin in its hiding place that never ventures out. But she defended herself by saying things would get better when _she_ got better.

The problem was, she wasn't getting better.

Her mother came over with homemade soup, the flavor she always hated but smiled nonetheless instead of disappointing her mother, and when Videl insisted on a doctor's visit Pan shook her head violently and said all she needed was rest from the move and all the things that had been occurring in her life.

Her mother sighed, hands on hips, but didn't say anything. She also didn't come by very often as Pan insisted she was fine. But the truth was, she could barely hobble to the bathroom on her own.

Pan wasn't the doctor visiting type. She preferred to let things run its course, preferred to not take pain meds, and this often got her into trouble, though she wouldn't admit it.

Jace had called, but she wouldn't tell him she was sick, and disguised her raspy voice as best she could by admitting she was eating, or some other untruth. She knew if he knew she was sick he'd be right over, and wanted to avoid any such scene. She made excuses for not being able to hang out, but it wasn't hard, as he was busy with the getting into the groove of his training.

And so a week went by, and several more days as well, and Pan was still cooped in bed feeling miserable, and feeling bad for herself at the same time.

It was during a late, rainy afternoon of watching nothing of importance that a knock came to her door mid-sneeze. She reached for an unused tissue among the mass of used ones all over her bed and called out loudly, and nasally, "Come in!"

She suspected her mother, and awaited a long speech about how she needed to see a doctor about her condition, however the door opened quietly, almost cautiously, and she heard not the petite steps of her mother but stronger, more determined steps that bore a weight not having to do with pounds.

She rolled her eyes, not in the mood to see Jace, and looked embarrassedly around her messy room, imagined her messy house—but Jace didn't come through the door.

Instead Trunks entered and leaned against the doorframe to her bedroom, a bouquet of brightly colored daisies in his right hand.

She was too shocked for speech, and stared at him in surprised annoyance.

"Heard you were sick." He said simply, approaching her. He dusted off countless tissues from the comforter without a second thought before sitting down by her feet. He set the daisies on her kneecaps.

"What are you doing here?" She found herself saying in that still shocked, surprised tone.

"Can't I bring you flowers when you're sick?" She glanced at the flowers and remembered her manners, thanking him—though briefly.

"Thank you, Trunks. I appreciate it. But I'm actually not feeling well right now, so—"

"Let me get you something. Are you hungry, thirsty?" He chuckled. "Need more tissues?" She was so shocked she didn't know what to say. "How about I start with the tissues." He shook the box. "They look about out."

Half an hour later the tissues were cleared away from her bedroom completely—through some saintly act on his part—and there was a freshly opened box of Kleenex on her nightstand. Her daisies were also on the nightstand, in a blue vase he had discovered in a kitchen cabinet.

She could hear him in the kitchen now, clinking and clunking around, and she knew with certainty he had cleaned up the living room and kitchen as best as he could in a half an hour.

Just when she felt she might be able to dose off he burst through the bedroom door bearing a tray of food as if it was a royal decree and he the peon sent to decree it—though peons under royal command never feel as if they are peons.

He set it on her lap—a plate of grilled cheese and a steaming mug of tomato soup set beside some herbal tea, some napkins, and a glass of ice water—and then her mouth dropped.

She vaguely remembered saying 'thank you', though her plan had not been to say thank you—indeed something much different—before diving into the scrumptious meal before her.

He watched her eat it contentedly, bent down to pet her cat, picked up a magazine from her massive pile beside the bed, all sitting beside her legs. However when she was finally finished, and opened her mouth to speak, he snatched her tray and told her to wait a minute.

He returned, just a few moments later, bearing her massive mug she used for ice cream, full of creamy hot chocolate with whipped cream brimming to the rim with cinnamon and sugar sprinkled upon it.

Again, her words were much different then her previous intentions, and she certainly couldn't refuse _this_ hospitality.

But there was no third course to this meal, and finally Pan found herself able to say—in a somewhat similar fashion—what she had wanted to since the tomato soup caught her fancy.

"T—"

"Hey, I gotta go, but I hope you get to feeling better, OK?" He squeezed her knee a little, with a smile. "OK—see you later!" He gave her a quick nod before leaving, and she listened to his footsteps and finally the door open and close.

She hadn't spoken fast enough, now she felt like an idiot, and he was gone. She threw herself into her pillows, ready for another nice, long nap.

Pan was feeling a lot better the next day, and though she now was prepared for strange surprises, she wasn't prepared for the strangest one of all: Trunks a second time.

Indeed he strode in without knocking, and poked his head into her bedroom, which had accumulated more tissues, and a couple extra dishes. She was sitting with her back against the headboard, an assortment of fingernail tools spread around her, and re-runs of whatever sitcom had long ago run its course.

Her face must have been written in a mask of shock, cause he cast her a quirky smile and said, "What?"

"I just…." The truth was, the furthest thing from her visitors list was Trunks a second time. Hadn't his first visit been bizarre enough? How often do people get struck with lightning twice?

He had now left her sight, and she could hear him rustling around in the living room. When he appeared again his sport coat was absent from his shoulders, his sleeves were rolled up, and he was loosening his blue and pinstriped green tie.

His hair, as was usual, was tousled with no real part, and the forefront was brushing at his forehead, the length a tad longer than usual.

"I brought some things for lunch—want some?"

Pan had managed to make her way into the kitchen and plop herself down on the stool at the island before collapsing with deep breaths and some panting. She caught his smirk, and shot him a glare.

"What is so funny?" She asked with a clipped tone, and he stifled a chuckle. "What?" She snapped.

"I am in awe of how even the strongest of women on this earth can sometimes need a little help." He said grandly, to which she scowled.

"At least the strongest of women, unlike the strongest of men, don't lay in bed like a baby, moaning, when they're sick." She retorted.

"I would never attempt to deny that."

"Why do men do that, anyway?" She then began to rant, as she had pondered this very question quite often while she had been sick as of late.

"Maybe because it's their only chance to be taken care of, as usually they feel the obligation to protect the women around them. Maybe they take the advantage of that, as they enjoy being taken care of?"

She seemed contented with that answer. She turned thoughtful for several moments during the silence before, with a sigh, she asked Trunks, "Why are you here?" He took a second from the counter full of food he was preparing, and she wondered if he would even answer he was silent so long.

"Can't I be your friend?" He then asked, a sincere expression on his strong face.

The question caught her off guard, and she was stunned to silence as he continued.

"I know you don't want anything romantic with me, Pan, and I understand that. But either as a lover or a friend, I miss you.

"I want to be your friend, Pan, if you'll let me." She smiled warmly.

"Of course. I'd like that too."

"Miss Kitty, eh?" He turned to Pan while he scratched her cat behind the ears. Both were lounging on the couch at present, dirty dishes strewn about the kitchen after their lunch. "I thought you weren't a cat person?"

"I'm not," She returned. "But she caught my eye at the SPCA." She clicked her tongue and Miss Kitty leaped off Trunks' lap in favor of pounding onto Pan's. "And she's terribly, terribly loyal." She grinned wickedly at Trunks.

"So how's the family?" She then inquired, to which he bit his lip in thought for a moment.

"All fine, more or less. Unorganized chaos, to be sure." They exchanged knowing smiles. "Bura and Donny are great, my parents, Krillin and Eighteen, Marron, the whole lot. You probably know more of how your family is doing?"

"How about Goten?" She asked.

"Still mad about Marron, but it's mutual, making negotiations simple." She laughed, tilting her head back, and he cocked a questioning brow her way.

"I was just thinking of how we sound like military generals the way we're talking. Or did you notice?" There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he came closer to her face.

"I did. But isn't it just too fun? Like playing soldiers and spies like we did when we were younger? But have you forgotten those better times?" She laughed outright.

"How could I forget! When you and Goten always made me the target of your military actions! Why was I always the bad guy?"

"Because you were so easy to overpower!" He said, as if stating the obvious. "You were the little niece of my best friend, little Pan. We could always make you whatever we didn't want to be. Besides, you were grateful to be included."

She snorted, but made no attempt to deny it, and the cat let out a yawn.

"You haven't changed much," He continued after a moment, and she rose her brows at him in defense. "No, I mean, you'll always be the Pan I grew up with, won't you?" She shrugged.

"I've changed a lot, you should know."

"I hardly had a chance to." She caught his eye, but there was no hidden meaning, just blatant, and blunt, honesty.

"Not this last—nearly two years?" She folded her arms, and an expression of sincere curiosity lit her face.

"Well, I mean, I tried," He shifted his positioning on the couch. "But, in honesty…so much happened. Like, from the moment I first took you to the mall way back when, to when you left for London this last time. So much was happening, at every moment.

"There never were any quiet stops at café's or long lonely drives to really discover what had changed since we were kids.

"I feel like, as far as you were concerned, when you were eight I took a great big step and turned around and you were seventeen." Her eyes were lowered, her pouting mouth thoughtful.

"And those years when I was eight until I was seventeen, I felt like a little child chasing after a dream." She said quietly. He looked at her, almost as if he had just seen her for the first time that day. "I always loved you, Trunks. Ever since you were the tousled haired kid always looking for trouble.

"You were like a god to me, really." She cast a little smirk.

"Let me re-discover you, Pan." He said, and his brows were furrowed, serious, and he looked at her in sincerity. The question caught her off-guard, and she looked at him, a little confused.

"Let me re-discover the Pan you've become. I want to know the little, tiny things, like your favorite CD, your favorite ice-cream, what country you've always wanted to visit.

"I want to know your taste in art, your favorite movie line…your little secret smile by heart." He sighed.

"You deserve a person, lover or friend, who really knows you. I blew my chance at being your lover, but let me re-discover you as a friend."


	19. Back To The Way Things Were

I promised to be good last time. I wasn't—sorry! But after my last chapter I went to the beach, New Orleans…and then college started. Phew. Then I lost what I had of this chapter (about half), and had to restart from the beginning. I now have found time to compose this chapter to give to all my patient readers—though I did get some threats via email. Though I won't complain about those too badly as they whipped me into guilty feelings. I won't feel guilty now as I uploaded this, and last night uploaded a DBZ/GT one-shot entitled "For The Want of A Child" and it's a 27 page one-shot about, well, check it out of you care. I also uploaded an Inuyasha poem entitled Regret. So now I'm feeling quite productive. Thanks again for waiting—and please review!

* * *

"Will we ever see a break in this weather?" Pan snorted, looking out the window to where the dusky early evening was nothing but stormy gray clouds and tree branches slapping in the gusts of harsh wind, the windows being pelted with loud, clattering rain. _"In the southern region below the capitol there have been flood warnings in effect for the past week, and now we are having those same warnings for the eastern side as well._

"Still no dangerous warnings for the capitol itself, but there is still an amazing amount of rain flushing through the streets. Many of the major companies are putting work on hold as well, and we will go back to Jane Simmons with that report." Pan blew a strand of hair from her face as she hacked away at the onions, her eyes watering uncomfortably while the news continued on in the background.

"Thank you, Dick.

"Many major companies are putting and have been keeping workers on hold, including Design-two, Markus brothers, Degraid, Vixen, and of course Capsule Corporations.

"Dillon Markus of Markus brothers announced that they wanted their employees to keep indoors this morning, and we were there for that report." Pan turned around to see an overweight man rolling on and on about how he was concerned for their employees safety with the severe weather, and announced that the company would be on "quiet" mode for several days or so.

"Both Vixen Entertainment and Capsule Corporations announced that they would be relieving their employees at the beginning of this week, when weather first started getting bad, and we were there as well." Now Trunks' face was being flashed across the screen, and she paused to re-listen to what he had had to say.

"There is no need to be putting our employees on the line in such weather. Better yet that we have them on relieve and when the weather clears we'll be up and running without skipping a beat." Pan smirked. It was odd to realize she was one of those thousands of employees working for Capsule Corporations.

"And now we'll turn our camera's to Jim Dale for our sports report. Jim?" Pan took a handful of onions and dumped them into a frying pan with the rest of the vegetables. The tossed some soy sauce and miso seasoning over the top of it, before setting a lid on the pan to let it simmer.

Her sickness had gone down to mere coughing here and there, however this storm had kept her maddeningly indoors. Her cat even seemed glum, vying for attention during the most inopportune moments. Like, for instance, how she had set at the computer desk while Pan emailed, her front paws on Pan's forearm, her little head bobbing up and down to gain attention.

It might have been cute the first few moments, but when the cat wouldn't scram Pan began having a sour attitude.

She hoped the cat was napping somewhere when she sat at the computer and logged into her instant messenger. A twitchy kitty was the worst thing to have when you're in the middle of an IM conversation.

She glimpsed her lying on the bed and her mouth twitched in a smirk just as the weird, bubbly sort of _ding! _went off, notifying her that someone wished to speak to her.

It was Bura.

Mdlsgrl: Greetings, sick one!

Pan: Greetings, engaged one!

Pan: By the way, I'm not sick anymore.

Mdlsgrl: Have you turned bitter against people getting engaged? lol.

Mdlsgrl: Glad you're feeling better.

Pan: I'm not bitter.

Pan: Thanks. How have you been?

Mdlsgrl: Exhausted. Glad that the bad weather's giving me a break!

Pan: lol.

Pan: Wedding plans?

Pan: What's the deal with your sn?

Mdlsgrl: What else?

Mdlsgrl: See, it stands for model's girl. Make sense?

Pan: lol.

Mdlsgrl: I should ask what's the deal with yours?

Pan: What do you mean?

Mdlsgrl: lol.

Pan: What?

Mdlsgrl: Just "Pan"?

Mdlsgrl: Sounds like you.

Pan: …

Mdlsgrl: Just some fun. Say, you had lots of drama picking locations and caterers, didn't you?

Pan: What do you think?

Mdlsgrl: They're driving me up walls, Pan. Help me!

Pan: How can I help you?

Mdlsgrl: Come with me next time – I'll owe you a four-course meal at a Chinese restaurant, I swear, if you'll help me out this once.

Mdlsgrl: Please?

Pan: sigh

Mdlsgrl: ?

Pan: Oh, fine, all right.

Mdlsgrl: Great! Thanks!

Mdlsgrl: You know, Pan – no hard feelings.

Pan: …

Mdlsgrl: You know what I'm talking about…we're all still friends, right? Can things go back to normal?

Pan: How can they be normal again?

Mdlsgrl: Nothing's happened. As far as everyone's concerned, this past year has just been a blank.

Pan: But…

Mdlsgrl: I'm serious!

Mdlsgrl: Nothing's changed. Promise that's how you'll act?

Pan: Bura…

Mdlsgrl: I have to go. I'll call you when we're heading out again for wedding stuff.

Mdlsgrl signed off at 5:36pm

Pan leant on her elbows and sighed, her loose bangs sliding to fall around her face. Her cat jumped off the bed and came into the room, stretching her front legs in front of her and yawning.

* * *

The next day the rampage of rain and thunder did not lessen, and Pan got a call from Bura.

"We're heading out to do some things in about an hour. You game?" Pan stifled a groan and wondered how she had ever agreed to go.

"Yeah, sure." She managed to choke out.

Bura was prompt. Pan had just tugged a shirt over her head when the doorbell rang. The rain was still banging against the windows.

"I'm coming!" She hollered, grabbing some socks from her drawer and her favorite pair of sneakers. Bura kept ringing, and she rolled her eyes as she jogged down the hall to the door.

She flipped the latch and received Bura into her apartment. She had a long raincoat that came halfway down her calves, and her dripping hair was twisted behind her head.

"Ready?" She asked brightly, and looked around her apartment for her wallet.

"You sure you want to go in this weather?" She asked warily, finally spotting her wallet and sliding it into her jacket pocket. Bura chuckled.

"Trying to get out of it?" She raised a brow, her slender hands resting on her slender hips.

"You know me too well." Pan grinned, her onyx eyes sparkling.

"Let's go!" Bura smacked her friend on the butt and Pan hopped to it.

* * *

"I actually disagree," All eyes turned to Pan. She had decided she would be bold this afternoon for Bura's sake, and so every comment that came to her head in her friend's favor she threw out. "I mean," She continued. "They're both high profile people, and I'm guessing, however classy, it'll still be a hip affair." She scrambled for words, saw everyone consider, and spotted Bura wink and mouth 'thank you' her way. She nodded in return.

"Well," Bulma began, "I think that's good enough for today, ladies?" She stretched her back just barely. "I'm exhausted."

"What are you girls doing?" Videl turned to her daughter and Bura.

"Heading out for a bit—that's cool, right?" She turned to a very surprised Pan who five minutes later had been talked into it.

"You need to get out!" Bura had complained, grasping her arm and leading her towards the lobby of the hotel she was considering having her wedding at. "Donny's going to pick me up, and I think you should come. You don't know him near as much as you need to!" She whined, and finally Pan didn't feel like arguing any more and wasting her breath.

Twenty minutes later Donny's car pulled up, and though she was shocked at something, it wasn't his leather pants. Trunks got out of the car as well. She combed a hand through her hair without thought and began wondering what he was doing there.

"Hey!" Bura jogged up to them cheerfully, the gusty wind not being broken by the hotel's valance and blowing her hair wildly about her as she jumped into Donny's arms.

"Pan!" Donny greeted her with a smile as Bura turned and gave her brother a kiss on the cheek. "So good to see you," He shook her hand warmly, and she and Trunks exchanged smiles. "Well? Where are we off to?"

"Something to eat," Bura groaned, "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse." They all filed into his little sports car and they sped down the street.

* * *

An hour later they all sat around a table at 'Albert's', a tidy little classy diner downtown. Everything was black and white checked with red accents, and they served sodas and malts in abundance alone or with classic burgers or chicken tenders.

They chatted and gabbed, catching up with each other. Trunks was more silent than usual, seemingly thoughtful, his mind obviously elsewhere, and Pan avoided talking about herself as much as possible.

"So have you set a date?" She inquired, dipping a french fry in her chocolate milkshake.

"We were thinking about this next spring, actually." Bura and Donny were holding hands, and she gave it a little squeeze and flashed him a quick smile.

"Well, that's great!" Pan attempted cheerfulness though she desperately longed to be home. "Outdoor reception?" She then inquired. Bura seemed disheartened suddenly.

"That's what I want. But it seems the forces of nature—or motherly opinions—wants an indoor evening reception." She snorted. "Classier for the press, perhaps." Pan could feel her pain.

"Yeah, that's what I wanted—but the same deal." She hadn't realized what she had said until it was too late. Trunks was, seemingly for the first time of the evening, listening.

"I know!" Bura burst out, finding a kindred struggle.

"I guess with Trunks being so high profile it was best just to keep things in the evening and at a banquet hall or something." Where had that come from? She mentally kicked herself. But it was just too easy to fall into relaxed conversation with Bura about this. She had felt so alone before.

"I told Bura to insist to have it wherever she wanted," Donny joined the conversation. "I just want her to be happy with it. It's only one night and I want it to be special for her." Pan felt a twinge of hurt. Trunks had tried to help her the same way. He had been more distraught than she, trying to make sure she was all right, that she was getting what she wanted.

She took a sip of her milkshake, her eyes tingling strangely just a touch.

The subject was changed and Pan was relieved. She fell easily into conversation again as they finished their meals and the waitress came for the bills.

She tentatively handed two to the gentleman present, and they both took it. Pan reached to Trunks to protest, but he held up a hand and with the other gave the waitress the slip of paper and a credit card.

She looked to her lap as the waitress dashed off.

"I'm going to run to the restroom for a moment. Want to come, Pan?" Bura stood, slinging her purse over her shoulder and lying her jacket over one arm.

"Oh, I'm fine. Thanks, though." She nodded energetically before disappearing around the corner and the three of them reluctantly stood and gathered coats and bags.

"Sir?" The waitress had come and given Trunks his receipt, but she hesitantly asked for Donny to come to the register. Apparently his card wasn't working correctly.

"Wait for me at the door?" He jerked his head towards the entrance and Trunks nodded silently.

Trunks and Pan fell into step together, and while they waited her offered her his help to put on her jacket.

"You didn't need to pay for me," She mentioned, and he shrugged it off.

"I don't mind."

"Really, I—"

"Pan, it was fine." She fell silent. "Why is it such a big deal?" She opened her mouth to speak but didn't end up saying anything. "You never would have cared before—actually, you would have accepted and gladly kept the extra cash you now had."

"I was just—"

"Things aren't the same as before everything—all this happened," He glanced behind him and saw Bura and Donny approaching. "but can't we just pretend they are?"

Pan had nothing to say to that. Donny and Bura fell into their company and there wasn't time for her to respond even if she had had anything to say.

They loaded into the car, her feeling stupid and silly, Trunks tense, Donny and Bura oblivious to their conversation.

They dropped Pan off first—her apartment was closest, in the downtown district—and Bura walked her to her door.

"See?" She began cheerfully. "Things can be the same! We can act like nothing ever happened and hang out just like old times!" Pan offered a weak smile and without addressing the subject said her goodbye.

Things couldn't be the same. They couldn't just pretend.


	20. Who Am I?

Pan sloshed her clogged feet through some puddles left by the rain, her grocery bags swinging from her hands, the rain still relentless.

She carried on, however, walking close to buildings, being protected by the most part by eaves from quaint little downtown shops or from neighborhood banks or restaurants. Only occasionally did this protection leave her, and she sprinted to the next covering when it did.

She took her apartment steps two at a time, taking off her newsboy cap and shaking it out before sliding her key in the lock. It was unlocked, much to her surprise, and she entered warily, glancing around for a sign of any visitor—or intruder.

She found the intruder sitting in her living room, watching a soccer game.

"Trunks, what are you doing here?" He turned around to look at her, an open bag of potato chips sitting next to him on the couch.

"Isn't it a little early to be out shopping?" He asked, motioning to the clock behind her that stated it was 8:37am.

"I had to get some groceries," She explained, carrying her load into the kitchen and setting them down on the island. "What did you want?" He slouched over, rolling up the top of the chip bag and stuffing it into a cupboard above the fridge.

"I want you to go the east capitol with me today." She looked at him as if he were mad.

"What on earth for?"

"I have a business meeting." She rolled her eyes and let them settle heavenward.

"You can release all of your employees from work because of this storm and yet you won't cancel a business meeting." She said sarcastically.

"I don't see why I don't have to go. I mean, the weather's much better today." He looked outside at the rain. It had decided to fall harder now. It seemed to agree with Pan.

"And why do you want me to go with you?" She then questioned him, tossing the empty bags into a drawer and taking up several cans in her arms.

"I thought, since the meeting wouldn't be very long, we could hang around the capitol for the afternoon for something to do. Aren't you bored of sitting around in this weather? It'll be fun. And I heard it isn't raining in the east." She rolled her eyes again.

"Please?" He begged. "It would be fun. And what better things do you possibly have to do today?" She closed the cupboard and turned to him with a defeated smirk.

"If this plane crashes in this hurricane I'm holding you personally responsible for my death," Pan quipped, buckling her seatbelt. They were sitting opposite each other in Trunks' private jet, a simple coffee table between them with a plethora of diverse magazines spread over its surface.

He only laughed, shaking his head, his lavender strands tangling over his brow as he gazed out of the window. It was late morning by now.

The plane trafficked down the ramps and runways, and an announcement came over the speaker saying, "Ready for takeoff, Mr. Briefs, sir."

"Go ahead," He called towards the cockpit, and the engine revved up.

Pan leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes tight, and Trunks watched her with intrigue.

The plane lifted into the air, and Pan took in a breath, her face fresh with a silent smile. Trunks leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee, his hand cupped around his chin.

Until the plane tilted east she sat the same way—as if she was soaking in the very moment. Trunks watched her with a slow smile, and she slid her eyes open slowly to see him gazing at her.

"What?" she asked him, a smirk on her face.

"I was just watching," he defended. She cast him a disbelieving brow, but he only smiled in return.

"I love that," she continued, "lifting off in a plane. I really do." She grinned at him happily.

"Well, I shall add it to my list of little things I've found out about you." He grinned back at her.

"I don't know why I came. _I don't know why I came_." Trunks had stormed past Pan without even a word and stormed even more into the elevator, his slim leather binder wrinkling with the pressure of his tight grip upon it.

"Whoa, slow down, tiger. What's wrong?" She punched the button for the first floor and the metal door shut with a _ting!_.

"You know, why don't they just say it? Why don't they just say it!" He took several deep breaths. "They all are thinking the same thing, 'Capsule Corps. went to pot the day the young heir took over.' And, 'the company's going to fall in a big heap with him at the head.'

"Why don't they just openly criticize me? Why don't they instead of stabbing my back with muted snickers and glances at each other when I'm not looking? I can handle the truth better than I can handle this, this—political intrigue!" Pan held back an obnoxious laugh.

"Political intrigue?" She asked him, and even he had to cool down a little at the humor of it.

"You know what I mean," He insisted, slowly gain back vehemence. "I can take them telling me everything they think. It's this behind-my-back stuff that frustrates me."

"You're a fighter, Trunks. Of course that's where you'll stand. You want something you can fight against. Not some elusive disapproval you can't put your finger on." He opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, I know you know it's there for sure but you don't have any proof. And you'd rather something you can punch in the gut, am I right?" She was. He slumped his shoulders, his temper draining at her words.

"It's ok." She patted him. "It'll be all right. You'll prove them wrong, I know you will. And look at all the good things you've done! Look at your work with Degraid—look at Vixen! Vixen entertainment is the hottest thing out right now, and you're at the head."

"But Connor—"

"Connor Degraid has done nothing in comparison to you. You're the one who really upped this company. You're the one with the brains behind it. I _know_ you are." She poked him in the chest. "And don't argue with me."

"I won't." She laughed and they climbed into the car. "Take us to 22nd and Dae, please, driver." He called to the front, and Pan kicked up her feet in the adjacent seat. She had jeans on, with sneakers and a purple t-shirt. She also had a navy blue zip-up hoodie with the sleeves pushed up on, and her hair was down and naturally wavy.

"So, Mr. Briefs, where are you taking me?" She asked, crossing her ankles and pulling down an armrest for herself.

"I'm taking you to do your favorite thing: eat." They exchanged a chuckle.

"Ooh, baby, you know what I like."

Later that evening they were sipping cappuccinos after their meal at _fifth and twelfth,_ a swanky place where Trunks had only gotten in for dinner without a reservation by his name.

"Lots of or barely any?" Pan asked him, sucking in the top of her froth with flourish.

"Froth? Hmm." He thought on it before answering, "A regular amount." She looked at him with a hardly contained smile. "I mean, I like it—but too much I don't like. You?"

"Lots. I think I like it more than the actual drink!" And she sipped at her drink again. "Ok, question time. If you could—and had to—change one thing on your face, what would it be?"

"My nose." He said without hesitation.

"Your nose?" She returned, beginning to take a good look at it.

"It's too big." He gave her a side profile, but she laughed off his argument of his nose's size. "And what about you?"

"My hair," She said simply. "It's too thick and unmanageable." She seemed determined.

"I love your hair—it's not too thick." He insisted, but she brushed him off. "You really don't like it?"

"I've never liked it." She stated just as simply as her last statement. "It's thick, it's poofy, it's in the way." She began a tirade, but he only laughed it off.

"Come on, miss 'do," He stood up and placed some cash on the table. "Let's go for a walk by the bay. And hey, you said what would you change about your 'face'!"

They were dropped off by Trunks' car at the boardwalk along the bank, and the sun was setting crimson and orange against navy blue and royal purple clouds lined with silver in the distance.

"Looks like it's still stormy back home," She commented solemnly.

"Has this been too much rain for you?"

"Not too much rain," She returned. "I love it. It's just I feel so flat when I'm not working or doing something with my time. Now that school's out I need to be doing something with my hands—my mind—constantly if I don't want to feel deflated." She smiled.

"You're boyfriend, Jace, is so antsy about coming into work I've had to stop answering his calls." He commented with a friendly smirk, but Pan didn't return it.

"He isn't my boyfriend anymore." Trunks raised a brow, hands in his suit pockets as he walked just a pace behind her. The breeze brushed her waving hair around her brow and jawline.

"The two of you broke up?" He asked her, and she nodded.

"It's for the best, really. He's getting into his new job, and adjusting to a new city. I knew things wouldn't last between us. The best I could do for him was let him go and let him establish himself here as a single guy.

"He wants to settle down, and he needs to be available to girls who want to settle down with him." Silence lingered between them for several moments, Pan thinking to herself, Trunks gauging his next words.

"Larkin Scott is in town," She turned around to face him. "He's overseeing the new martial arts facility they're opening up in the Tucker district." She lifted a brow in disbelief. "You guys should probably hang out sometime." Pan shook her head.

"He's better off not having anything to do with me." She continued walking and Trunks followed.

"He loved you, Pan. I know you don't want to admit it, or address it, or even think of it. But you know it's true."

"He's better off not having anything to do with me." She repeated.

"You don't think anything could happen with him?" He asked her. "You don't want anything to?"

"We were over before we had even begun. We could have been great friends, but nothing more. I liked you, remember?" She turned again and looked at him.

"I know. But maybe, now that we—I mean…is he someone you could like? Now that we're over, I mean." Pan bit her lip and didn't answer, and she kept walking again.

But Trunks didn't keep walking.

"Pan." She stopped dead in her tracks, but didn't turn around. "I want to be your friend. I want to so badly—more than you know. But I can't if you won't let me be. If you won't talk to me.

"I can feel those walls you have set around yourself. Those walls that still keep me out."

"I have walls, Trunks. I admit it without remorse. Only a couple months ago we were engaged. We were going to get married. And things didn't work out." She looked him square in the eye. "And so you expect me to let go instantaneously and release every wall to my soul to you? I don't even open the door for barely anyone." She folded her arms and looked into the distance.

"I understand that, Pan. I understand and acknowledge that you have every reason to shut me out especially. But, Pan, it's not good to always shut yourself up in your walls. Sometimes you need to trust people. Sometimes you need to let go—sometimes you need to lend someone your heart in whatever type of relationship it is, and trust that they won't break it.

"I'm here for you, Pan. Maybe more than anyone. I just wish you would see how much I care and want to be here for you. How I want you to trust me again and give me that second chance now as a friend."

She still didn't look at him, only at the horizon in the distance, and her soft curls brushed across her face until finally she spoke.

"I looked to you like you were a god. Always growing up I wanted your approval, your smile. I came to want your heart, too, Trunks. I thought I had it once only to lose it when I found out about that bet—"

"You always had it, Pan. It was just _I_ didn't know it.

"I was too foolish to really understand until you left. I thought I had lost you forever until you came back, and when you trusted me I betrayed you—"

"And I you." She turned, and their eyes met.

"Pan," He approached her, and the last of the day's sunlight splayed over her face as he cupped her cheek in his hand. "Things can go back. We can forget everything that happened between us. We can be friends as we always were. We can laugh and go out with everyone on weekends. We can spend holidays with our families always together.

"We can go back to the way things were and forget the pains we went through. We can act as if nothing ever happened!"

She shook her head and a tear slid down her cheek. Her expression was distraught and she fought back a rush of tears.

"No! No, they can't, Trunks!" She took a step back as if burned. "You say we can act as if nothing has changed in this past year. As if were still the friends we were growing up.

"But they can't Trunks! They can't!" And glistening tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Why can't they, Pan?" He was desperate, his face flushed, and his expression frustrated and as distraught in a different way as hers. "Why can't we pretend? _Why can't we pretend?_" There was a silence that engulfed them both, broken only by Trunks' heavy breathing and Pan's silent tears and quiet sniffling.

"Because I still love you." And her face distorted to something tragic, and Trunks was stricken beyond words.

"I love you, Trunks! I've never stopped, no matter what has happened, no matter how we've been apart or together. I can't live without you.

"And I can't pretend, Trunks. I can't pretend anymore." She shook her head as she broke down. Her tears sparkled in the sudden mix of dusky and starry light, and Trunks, still in his awed silence, cupped her face in his hands.

"I love you, Trunks. I love you." He brushed away her tears with his thumbs, and her waving hair blew against them both in the cool evening breeze.

"Then love me, my Panny." Through her tears she now bore a sudden smile. "Then love me my beautiful, wondrous, magical, Panny." He pulled her to him, and their foreheads touched.

"Oh, how I love you. I've never stopped loving you, and never stopped hoping someday you might love me again."

She said, "I tried to lie to myself, only to discover I was denying myself the thing that brought me the most joy of anything ever in my life."

He kissed her once, twice, three, four times. Quickly on her lips, then darting over her tear-streaked face. And then he kissed her once on her lips, long and slow and as passionately as ever he could muster.

"Marry me, Pan?" He then asked her. She widened her eyes, though without a doubt she knew that was what she wanted to do. There wasn't any hesitation no matter what their past experience had been. She had no second thoughts, and she knew there would never be any regret.

"Marry this stupid, foolish man and make him the happiest in the world." He pressed, but she did not answer him straight away.

"Who am I?" He lifted his brows in confusion. "Who am I?" She said again.

"Panny." She grinned and leapt into his arms.

"When you stopped calling me that I thought my heart would break," She hugged him tighter. "Yes. Yes!"

"I shall never let you be anything but my Panny. Never again." And he twirled her around and around and around.

And then he drew her into his arms, holding her as if he would never surrender her. Holding her tight as if he would never ever let her go. He breathed in the scent of her hair. As always it bore the fragrance of coconut and almond, and he let out a sigh filled with emotion that nearly presented itself through tears.

His eyes bright he gave her another kiss, and took her hand. They walked slowly along the boardwalk in the darkening night, lingering, not caring about anything else but each other.

And they talked, and laughed, and remembered, and questioned. And Trunks vowed he still sought to know everything little thing about her. And she told him he had all the time in the world.

Yes, this was the last chapter, ladies and gentleman. I had a surprise up my sleeve, didn't I? Please go here (without the spaces, of course, and you'll have to add two slashes after the "http:" because ffnet is prickish): http: www. livejournal. com/ users/ denialofreality /39411. html # cutid1


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